The Rebels

 Prologue

PETER

Two Years Ago

The stench of vomit was keeping Peter up. The ship jolted from side to side, forcing his hammock into constant motion. It was dimly lit below decks, the lamp hanging near the base of the steps flickered, throwing shadows along the walls. The more experienced sailors snored loudly and without abandon. Through the portholes, there was the occasional flash of white light, followed by the shuddering sound of thunder, but even that was too far away to be worrisome. None of this would have been enough to keep Peter awake, but the smell of vomit was intolerable.

He buried his head beneath his blanket, eyes shut tightly, but no matter what he did the smell would not leave. He was glad that he had a strong stomach because between the consistent sounds of retching, the constant swaying of his hammock, and the ever-present smell of sour and rancid sick, he would have been ill hours ago. The sounds of monstrous waves attacking the hull of the ship echoed through the room as if to remind them that they were trapped in a seemingly never-ending storm.

In fact, the storm was the only thing keeping Peter below decks. Actually, if it wasn't for the captain, ordering all paying passengers to stay below decks, he would have raced up the steps ages ago, regardless of the storm.

Peter was no stranger to the sea. He had been sailing boats his whole life, albeit none as big and crowded as this one. It was the first of many new experiences. He had never had to spend this much time below decks. He had never been around this many sick people nor had he ever had to endure the stifling heat that he and 27 other passengers were trapped in. Covered in the quilt his mother gave him before he left home, the warmth was almost unbearable. Sweat dripped from his thick coily hair between his brows and streamed down his dark skin from beneath his arms. He alternated between feeling as though he would drown in his own sweat and lowering his quilt to have slightly cooler air although, consequently, it also exposed him to the full smell of vomit.

In moments like these, he could not stop himself from thinking of home and how everything happening in his life now was completely foreign to him. He had left his home for the first time. Left behind his family and friends. Or at least the people he thought were his friends. He never really felt like he had belonged in the group, but spending time with them was better than being alone. Well, that what he thought at the time. Now he would happily be alone instead of being stuck with green faced travelers and their weak stomachs.

If his dad were here…well he would probably still be yelling at Peter for leaving, but under other circumstance he would laugh at the poor miserable souls unlucky enough to be sick at sea, and give them a few pieces of ginger to chew on to settle their stomachs.

As much as he tried to block it out, his father's voice still rung out through Peter's ears, competing with the sounds echoing through the room.

How could you do this to your mother and I? Your brothers?

How could I raise a son so selfish? Stupid? Naïve?

You will never survive out there alone.

What is a seventeen-year-old going to do out there alone in the world? Who will you turn to when you end up in trouble?

His father did not have to yell these thoughts at Peter, those same questions were already running through his mind. After much deliberation, though, he realized that he did not have to fear for his parents or his brothers. David, two years younger than Peter and already bigger than Peter had been at his age, was more than skilled enough to help their dad go fishing every morning. And Lane? At twelve years old, he was not far behind David.

What his father did not understand was how much he would miss them. How much he would miss his father's calming voice whenever they sailed out to sea. His mother's unbridled laughter from the top of a tree in their backyard, plucking a piece of ripe fruit. David's endless stream of jokes, surprising everyone with how quick his mind worked, and Lane's angelic singing, his voice still the high-pitched tone of a young boy.

He would miss all of it, but lately he could not help feeling like there was more for him out there. As if the waves meeting their shores wanted him to follow them every time the tide pulled them in. Or when the sound of a seagull faded with the breeze as if whispering for him to join him in his journey east. It was hardest to hold himself back whenever ships were being stocked and prepared for export. He could always imagine himself sneaking on board, hiding with the goods, and eventually emerging from the ship and walking onto foreign land. And now he had actually done it, although things were a little different than he had thought they would be.

He had saved money for an entire year, going fishing on the days that his father would rest and waking up extra early to catch a few more before his father woke up. Then he would sell them to his friends or a few loyal buyers who were sure to keep his extracurriculars a secret. Once he finally had enough money, and after tense and teary goodbyes, he had finally stepped foot onto a ship heading east.

This was now his second week on the ship and his third day of having to endure the storm, which also meant having to endure three long days of extreme heat and the pungent smell of vomit. Burying his head under his quilt again, he had to hope that it would all be worth it in the end. He had ignored the call for too many years trying to smother it with his father's voice, his mother's laughter, David's jokes and Lane's music, but it would not go away. Now, finally, he was doing something about it. Somewhere out there was an adventure crying out his name and now, for the first time, he was finally courageous enough to follow it.

Chapter 1

PETER

Present Day

Peter's boots sunk into the mud with every step he took, his armor feeling heavier and heavier by the minute. He looked around searching for a familiar face, but the face of the men around him were foreign; faces stretched into screams, brows at sharp angles declaring hate, and eyes wide in surprise at being struck by the unexpected swing of a sword.

It was too much at once. He had thought he was be prepared. He thought, or at least hoped, that Victor’s help would have been enough.

Victor had warned him about the sounds. The strangled cries of wounded men. The cacophony of metal on metal. The unforgettable sound of weapons tearing through flesh. And the whispers of full-grown lost boys calling for their mothers.

Victor had warned him about the sights. Bodies impaled with foreign objects. The racing of a terrified horse without its rider. Mud flying through the air. And the blood. So much blood that it dripped from his clothes and down into the already wet earth beneath his feet.

What Victor did not think to warn Peter about were the smells. The smell of iron was most vivid. The sharpness of the scent cut through everything else. Strong enough that Peter could taste it every time he took a breath. Layered underneath was a trace of urine and feces getting stronger as the pile of dead bodies got higher.

These elements registered in the back of his mind as he raised his sword again and again, fighting whatever obstacle was in front of him at the moment. He maintained a strong stance, shield raised in one hand and his sword in the other. He did his best to stay alert when all his mind wanted to do was shut down and let his body go through the motions.

Peter looked beyond the swarm of men searching for any kind of landmark that would tell him where he was in the field. For the line of trees to the west where he was expected to be at any moment now. But nothing looked familiar or distinctive. He had no idea where to go or what to do.

The battle had gotten out of control. Lines had broken. Generals were lost. Each second that past was less and less about fighting the enemy at large and more about surviving the oncoming sword being thrust at them by the nearest soldier.

It was nothing like the days he and Victor spent training on even ground, without their armor weighing them down. Their clothes wet with sweat instead of blood. Victor had warned Peter about the realities of fighting in a battle, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

Chapter 2

PETER

Three Days Ago

Peter lashed out quickly, his sword arcing through the air, only for it to be blocked by Victor’s. Peter’s arm quivered as he absorbed the impact. He barely had time to raise his sword arm again, before Victor lunged at him. It was all he could do to get out of the way. Victor grinned as Peter tried to stay on sure footing, but Victor used his imbalance to knock him to the ground hard.

Peter’s eyes went wide in surprise as he found himself flat on his back with Victor standing over him, his blade leveled beneath Peter’s chin.

“Nice try,” Victor said, his grin widening.

Peter scowled in response making Victor laugh harder. He lowered himself onto Peter, sword still dangerously close to Peter’s throat. Peter didn’t flinch, but he did roll his eyes.

“Do you surrender?” Victor asked.

“Do I have a choice?”

“You always have a choice.” His grin was blinding in the sun, his perfectly white and straight teeth illuminated by its rays. With all the training they had been doing, his skin glowed in the sun, more bronzed than when they had first met, but still nowhere near as dark as Peter. Also, unlike Peter, cockiness tended to radiate from Victor’s pores.

Victor had tied back his dark, shoulder length hair at the nape of his neck before training started. However, with Victor sitting on top of him, Peter could see tendrils of hair were starting to escape. Instead of it making Victor look messy and out of sorts, it only added to his good looks. Peter could not decide if that made him like Victor more or less.

Who was he kidding? It definitely made him like Victor more. But that did not mean that he would not take every chance he could to tease Victor.

“In that case, I refuse to surrender,” Peter said, eyebrows raised.

Still smiling, Victor moved his blade safely away, so that he straddled Peter empty handed.

“Oh really?”

“Yes.” Peter cocked an eyebrow. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, but you might change your answer after what I have to say.”

There were a few seconds of silence. Victor’s gaze on Peter did not change, nor did he open his mouth to speak, but his hands started to move. They made a journey up Peter’s torso. They trailed his chest exploring the hills and valleys of his muscles before tracing his collarbone. Then Peter’s face was in both of Victor’s hands. He caressed Peter’s face delicately, loving the heat radiating from his cheeks after the fight.

Finally, Peter cracked a smile. “Fine, come here,” Peter said, pulling Victor to him. Victor grinned this time in triumph and leaned down for a gentle kiss.

“You’re getting better.” Victor said, against Peter’s lips.

“At kissing?”

Victor chuckled. “No. You’ve always been good at that.” This time it was Peter’s turn to grin, although he tried to hide it. “What I meant to say is that you are becoming quite the swordsman.”

“Yes, I can tell by the way you’re sitting on top of me that I definitely know what I’m doing with my sword.”

“Trust me, you know exactly what to do with your sword,” Victor said, winking at him. Peter’s face went even more red. He tried to shove Victor’s shoulder, but Victor caught his hand before he could make contact and kissed his knuckles.

“Seriously, though, you’ll do just fine in three days’ time.” Victor was right. Unlike Peter, Victor had trained all his life for battle. He was well-known all around the continent. If Peter could hold his own against Victor for even a few minutes, he would be just fine against the average soldier. “Even so, we will take a few precautions. When the other generals and I take to the field make sure to stick to my flank. The right flank, which will be closest to the forest’s edge.”

Victor could pretend that he wasn’t nervous, but Peter could tell by the tension in his shoulders and the slight frown between his brows that he was worried.

“I know the plan.”

They had come up with the plan a few weeks ago. When Victor and the other generals were strategizing their attacks and splitting up their forces, Victor had made sure to take the flank closest to the forest’s edge. Victor and Peter would both fight, all the while heading east, towards the trees. Then, in the chaos, they would run away together. Away from their lives. From the obstacles trying to keep them apart. They would be alone together as they were now. Except it wouldn’t be for just a few hours at a time, but for the rest of their lives.

Victor brought his forehead to Peter’s.

“I know you do. Just a few more days and we won’t have to think about this shit anymore. We’ll finally be on our own, free to do as we please.” Peter brought his hand up, running his fingers through Victor’s hair. “As long as we’re together, everything will be fine.”

With that, Peter pulled him down for another kiss.

Chapter 3

PETER

Present Day

Peter tried his best to follow the plan, but the stream of soldiers never seemed to stop. All he could focus on in the moment was how to stay alive for the next few minutes. He did his best to keep his eyes on the forest line. At first it seemed as though he was making progress, but then minutes or hours or days passed, and he could barely see the line of trees.

Regardless, he did his best to make his way back in the right direction. He side-stepped blades that lunged out at him. He dodged adversaries and made sure not to trip over fallen bodies. Whenever he heard the whoosh of arrows flying through the air, he brought up his shield quickly just as Victor had taught him, and kept his arm stiff as arrows struck his shield one after another like rain.

Peter had created a rhythm. Strike, dodge, and run. Or at least run as far as he could in the direction of the forest until he bumped into another soldier. He followed this rhythm as long as he could. The next time he found a soldier though, it was one of his own. The soldier was backing up so quickly he ran into Peter and almost made him fall.

The unnamed soldier recovered quickly, however, and was gone before Peter had even said a word. When Peter turned back to look in the direction that soldier had come from he saw why the soldier had been so quick to run away.

Everyone was constantly moving, caught up in the entanglements of battle, but Peter stood still. He could hear and see nothing except for the general standing in front of him. The woman standing in front of him.

She was exactly as Victor had described her. Long raven hair pleated down her back. A long thin sword in her hands and abnormally light armor across her chest either suggesting that she had a rather large ego or that she was skilled enough to not even need it. From the stories Victor had told him though, he was pretty sure both were true.

After being on the battlefield for a few hours, Peter had started to notice a pattern in soldiers’ fighting styles. Most soldiers would charge at their opponents, swinging their swords like axes used to bring down trees. Their weapons slashing through the air as if in slow motion, catching the light before bringing them down for a swift kill.

Her style was different though. She was quick and nimble, her sword dancing in and out of sight in seconds. All around her, men were falling to their knees, hands clutching their chests, their sides, their necks as they were caught by her deadly storm.

In all the chaos her gaze somehow landed on him. She watched him staring at her and she grinned in response, taking his stillness as a challenge. Taking a step forward, she pulled him into her storm.

Chapter 4

BRIANNA

They did not notice her at first. They did not look at her. Did not pay her any mind even as she stood there in front of them, sword in hand. They did not think she would survive the first five minutes of battle, which was probably why so many died without even seeing her face.

Once they started registering the screams of men coming from her direction they began turning to see where the threat was coming from. The next men died with barely concealed looks of surprise on their faces. And the next with full-fledged terror on their faces.

Men could learn lessons quickly when they needed to.

It was not long before they started giving her a wide berth. Not that it mattered.

She was a dancer weaving between bodies, her only partner was the living steel in her grasp. The stage was slippery and uneven, the music was harsh, but her steps were sure and her balance was true. Her body remembered how to move even as her mind reeled from the violence.

A few hours in and the word must have spread, because they started to run whenever they saw her. All but one.

He stood there, the only still individual on the battlefield. He watched her steadily while keeping his grip on his sword. There was a look of determination marking his face. He was getting ready for a fight, which only made her grin with excitement. Raising her sword, she took a step forward.

Chapter 5

BRIANNA

Ten Years Ago

Men always seemed to run from her, although not always for the same reasons.

When Brianna was twelve, all she wanted to do was train with the boys. They were given weapons and shields and armor to learn how to protect themselves in war, and she was given a needle and thread, for what? To stitch an approaching soldier to death? Not to mention how boring all her tasks were and how exciting it looked to be fighting all day.

Brianna would watch from her window, thread and needle forgotten in her hands, until her mother would scold her for not paying attention. She would apologize and return to her task, but her ears couldn’t stop hearing the clanging sound of metal mixed in with occasional bouts of laughter coming from outside.

Finally, one morning when she had returned to her sewing after her tenth scolding of the day, she heard the scraping of a chair as her mother finally stood. Brianna was sure that her mother was preparing to tell her how disobedient she was or how exasperated she was to have a daughter who could not follow one simple task without getting distracted, but instead her mother kneeled in front of her.

She held Brianna’s hands, stopping her from making her next stitch.

“You really hate this, don’t you?”

Her mother did not look angry or exasperated, but she did look disappointed and maybe even a little sad. She replied carefully to try to spare her mother’s feelings. “I could…well, maybe if I…yes, I do,” she said finally, giving up. Her mother only laughed.

“Oh, my sweet girl. I know I cannot force you to be good at something that you do not like to do. I had hoped with some time you might change your mind, but that does not seem to be the case, does it?”

Brianna smiled softly in silent agreement.

“If you really want to train…then that is what you will do.” Brianna’s heart beat faster, like an animal rattling in its cage at the chance of being free.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Brianna let her full smile show, unabashedly, and her mother laughed in response. “Go on,” she said, after carefully removing Brianna’s work from her lap.

“Brianna,” her mother stopped her, before she could clear the door. “The boys are going to be rough –” Brianna opened her mouth to speak, but before she could her mother continued, “I know what you are going to say. I have no doubt that you are just as strong and as tough as they are. I have never met someone as resilient and determined as you.

“I was only going to say that some of the boys are going to give you a hard time. You’ll be the only girl there. Just…don’t let them change your mind. You are just as smart and capable as they are. Do your best and you’ll be fine.”

“I will. I’ll be better than all of them,” she swore.

***

Brianna kept her promise in mind with every training session she attended.

Every morning, her mother would always help her put on her trousers and tunic for training. This was exciting within itself as it always made her feel freer than she ever had been before. There was no skirt to trip over, nor were her clothes so heavy that she was weighed down as she would be in a dress. In these, clothes, she could not help herself. She ran everywhere she went. All throughout their home, making the servants jump and prompting more lectures from her mother. She could tell that her mother was not really angry though, from the way she was always half smiling when she told Brianna to stop rushing down the halls.

When the day finally came, she attended training unable to contain her excitement, much to the boys’ amusement. They teased her at first. They said that she was too scrawny. Too pale to be out in the sun. They said that she looked sickly and that her straw arms would never be able to carry a sword.

When that did not seem to bother her, they started ignoring her. No one would talk to her or acknowledge her existence. It was like she was not even there. At first it made things easier. She was able to focus on her training. But then no one would practice with her, except the instructor. She could not eat with them. And when they played games together after training was over, the boys would run into the woods, weaving through trees, until she was standing alone leaning against a tree and struggling for breath.

The next time training ended she didn’t even try to follow them. She stayed outside until everyone was gone, even the instructor, so that she could continue to practice alone. She put herself through drills, dashing across the dirt back and forth as fast as she could. She picked up her sword and shield, and swung at the straw dummy until the muscles in her arms burned. Then she would pick up her bow and arrow and shoot at her target until her fingers were covered in blisters. When ever her hands were sore she would practice dodging and ducking imaginary adversaries, tumbling to the ground and jumping over obstacles, until the movements were no longer foreign. There was no music playing, but the sound of the breeze flowing through the trees and birds chirping as the sun set resonated with her. As she went through the motions she felt as though she was dancing on air.

After a few months of being given the silent treatment, she started taunting them just so she could get the practice. If they were not willing to help her, she would annoy them until they would. For the first few weeks of this she had a lot of bruises, cuts, and even a couple of bloody noses. The first time her mother saw this she gasped in horror and ran to her side to help the nurse mend her wounds, but she did not make Brianna stop. She only gave Brianna a look as she tended to her, as if to say “they might have the upper hand today, but tomorrow they will be the ones in the infirmary.”

Brianna worked harder than any of them and eventually it started to show. She got better. Stronger. More agile and quick. Quicker than any of them. The boys said she was scrawny. They thought they could send her flying with one shove at her side. Maybe she was smaller than them, but she was also lighter on her feet. She could quickly dodge an oncoming advance or duck in an instant to avoid a sweeping sword.

The first time she knocked a boy to the ground she could not stop the victorious laugh from bubbling up her chest. Humiliated, the boy sprung up to his feet and swung at her when she wasn’t looking. She fell to the ground, her ears ringing while the boys laughed around her. But while they laughed, she promised herself she would never make that mistake again. As she did every time they bested her.

By the time the twins arrived, the boys had learned not to underestimate her.

The twins were a couple of years older than her and bigger than any of the boys who trained with her. They were easily the most skilled swordsmen in the group, maybe even better than a few of the soldiers they traveled with. As 14-year olds, they were considered men by their father and men did not spend all their time training with boys. So, their father took them on his “adventures” outside Robsusia and around the continent where they would visit smaller neighboring countries to make sure their citizens were behaving. Brianna did not realize until she was older that this meant looting and raiding foreign villages in countries that did not bend to their will.

Bryce and Victor were identical but if you paid attention you could easily tell them apart. Bryce was a lot louder and often bragged about his adventures. When he was not talking his lip was curled in a sneer and his chin was always tilted up as if the farther he tipped his head back the more untouchable he would become. Victor on the other hand was quiet and often stepped back to let Bryce get all the attention. With all the boys’ attention on Bryce, Victor was able to observe everyone from the sidelines. Which was how he noticed her. He didn’t say anything, although he did look a bit surprised to see her there.

Bryce did not notice her on the first day, which he spent showing off and telling stories. Their father had just gifted the two boys with two new longswords. They seemed too big for the young boys to handle, but they managed to wield them as if they were full grown soldiers. It was obvious that both Bryce and Victor were both very talented.

The other boys admired the swords with wide eyes full of yearning at the sleek metal. It looked sharper than any blade Brianna had ever seen and the white hilt was beautifully detailed with a carving of their house sigil. Brianna kept her distance even as the other boys crowded a very smug looking Bryce to look at his sword, but from her few glances at the weapon she had to admit that it was a true work of art.

On the second day, however, when the excitement of their arrival had worn off, Bryce finally noticed her. Brianna was sure he thought she was just a small lanky boy standing separate from the group. But then he saw her face and her long braid trailing down her back. His fast-growing smirk was more intimidating than anything the other boys had ever done.

“What do you think you’re doing here, Brianna?” he asked, once the instructor was out of earshot.

“I’m here to train,” she said, calmly, ignoring his tone. She tried to walk away before he could escalate the situation.

“I don’t think a little girl like you would survive here. I’ve killed men much bigger than you.” He’d boasted about it the day before, but the proud way he said it still made me shiver.

“I’m sure you did,” she said sarcastically, even though she feared he was telling the truth. “Or maybe you sat by the sidelines while Daddy did the real work.” He tried to strike her then, but she ducked out of the way just in time. “Be careful,” she said, as dangerously as she could, trying to mask her fear, “you’ve been gone for a while and I’m much stronger than I look.”

“You little bi –” he started, hand on his sword ready to draw it from its sheath. Before he could finish his sentence, Victor stepped in and asked if she wanted to be sparring partners. He quickly extricated her from the situation so that the two of them were in the view of the instructor.

Fortunately, right as they started practicing a few of the boys started asking Bryce for more stories, saving her from his wrath.

“I didn’t need you to save me,” she said, ten minutes after they started.

All Victor said was, “okay,” and they didn’t talk again until after training was over.

As usual, the boys left her behind, this time Bryce with them. When she didn’t get ready to leave, even after the instructor had gone, Victor finally spoke.

“You’re going to continue training?”

She hesitated before answering, but out of everyone she had trained with, he was probably the one she trusted most. She nodded, getting ready to pick up her sword and shield again.

“Okay,” he said, again, and picked up his own weapons to join her.

And that was that. They trained together for the rest of his time there and continued every time he returned from one of his adventures. Brianna slowly came to realize that Victor was not as quiet as he seemed. He loved to tease and boast and joke around, always in a way that would make her laugh. He could be animated when he wanted to be. With his brother around though, he stepped back and let Bryce take the spotlight.

Victor never interrupted Bryce and only stepped in when he thought Bryce might be crossing a line. Victor was the only person he would listen to in those situations, not that anyone except the instructor would ever try to step in. Bryce would follow his brother’s advice, but he could not hide the look of annoyance on his face.

Bryce did not forget her words though and even with Victor there, he got the better of her a few times, giving her the worst injuries. Over the years though, as she continued to train, with and without Victor, she got better, until Bryce could no longer push her around.

Until she was a soldier. And then a lieutenant. And then a general. And until no boy could ever push her around again. She would make sure they did not underestimate her. And if there was a boy who thought he could, she would put him in his place.

Chapter 6

PETER

Present Day

Their swords struck. Brianna let them touch for mere seconds before striking again. Peter held his ground against Brianna as best he could, but throughout the fight her smile remained on her face. She toyed with him, letting him win. She was like a cat playing with a mouse until the cat got bored enough to kill it.

The one advantage he had was his outlandishness. She had never encountered a swordsman with his fighting style before. At least his exercises with Victor had him somewhat prepared to fight her. Without Victor’s training, Peter would have died in minutes. Peter himself knew that he would not be able to stay in this fight for long. The only thing Peter could hope for was that Victor would find him before it was too late.

Chapter 7

VICTOR

If Brianna was an artist weaving death with her sword, Victor’s style was closer to that of a machine cutting down his opponents with his longsword in his hand.

Unlike with Brianna, the men on the battlefield took one look at Victor and headed in the other direction. He swung his sword, incapacitating those brave enough to face him or clumsy enough to step into his path.

While Peter could only hear the cacophony of war and Brianna the music of death, all Victor could hear was the pounding of his own heart. It was like the deafening boom of waves crashing against stone. The clap of thunder in a storm. The thud of a tree falling on the forest floor. And it only got louder with the time that passed without his lover in sight. One misstep, one fumble, and Peter would be gone.

Victor stayed by the trees as long as he could, waiting for Peter, until he got wary enough to go looking for Peter himself.

Victor shoved, swung, and parried, forcing people out of his way as he desperately searched for his love. It felt like a long stream of never-ending bodies were lining up between himself and Peter, and all Victor could do was dodge advances and wayward swords. There was not time to engage in battle, only to push others aside if they stumbled into his path.

Victor’s patience soon wore thin and he reached for another sword, one still sitting in the abdomen of its victim. He created a wider berth for himself, and soon the path was clearing as fellow soldiers gave him much needed room and rebels kept their distance eyeing the two swords warily. It was as if the sea was slowly parting, with dangerous waves churning on either side of him waiting for him to pass so that they could once again fill the gap.

It took him longer than he would have liked, but he finally broke through the only bit of open space on the field to find Peter. What should have been a sigh of relief was instead a breath that got lodged in his throat. His heart stopped for a moment. The waves went still. The storm forgotten as he saw the scene in front of him.

His lover was on his knees, blood dripping down his face and darkening his hair. Peter held his side with one hand while his other arm laid limp, no longer holding a sword. Brianna stood over him, savoring the moment. He knew that she was enjoying the last few seconds of a well-fought battle before she was pulled back into the chaos. Victor knew she pretended it was Bryce kneeling there instead of Peter, just as she imagined that every man she brought down on the field was him.

Without thinking, he planted his swords into the ground, reaching around his back for his quiver and arrows. In less than a second, he notched an arrow, pointing it directly at Brianna.

Despite the noise around her, Brianna heard the arrow being pulled back against the drawstring. For the first time since the battle started, Brianna’s smile disappeared.

“Bryce?” she asked, her voice firm with barely concealed anger in her voice. But it wasn’t long before she noticed the despair and desperation on his face and her anger turned into confusion. “Victor? What are you doing?”

She did not move…could not move, at the sight of her brother, the wrong brother, pointing his arrow at her.

Chapter 8

VICTOR

Five Years Ago

Victor never enjoyed his trips with his father, not the way that Bryce did, or the way that any of the soldiers did if he was being honest. He went through the motions, traveling with them, eating with them, sleeping with them, but always kept to the sidelines while they destroyed village after village. He did his best to get through each day, while counting down the weeks until he would be able to join Brianna again.

Things only got worse when their father died. He was killed by a trained soldier, living in one of the villages they terrorized. Brianna, never having spent real time with their father did not mourn his passing as much as everyone else. Victor mourned, although he himself had never really felt close to their father despite spending almost every day of his teenage life with him. His father was too brutal and overpowering, always resorting to violence rather than peace. Victor thought that perhaps it was normal for a general in the army to behave this way, until he became a general himself a few years later.

Bryce took it the worst. He was closest to their father and idolized him so much that he became a caricature of him in the worst way. When their father died, Bryce took his place as general, never afraid of taking the role in the spotlight. And Victor let him, as usual.

Brianna always urged Victor to stand up to Bryce, but Victor could feel Bryce’s pain. He tried to convince himself that Bryce’s surge in violence and destruction was only in reaction to their father’s death and not who his brother was in his soul. He did his best to forget the person Bryce was before their father’s passing and tried to curb every disastrous idea his brother had, just as he had when they were young. Only as general, Bryce was more and more reluctant to follow Victor’s advice.

Then one day, when they were miles away from the next village, their party stopped to rest and recuperate before continuing on their death parade. Victor was spending more and more time away from camp, unable to tolerate his brother as much as he used to, which is how he found himself bathing in the lake near their camp, alone.

 It was a nice day despite the circumstances. Victor was far enough from the camp that he couldn’t hear any of the boasting about their previous excursion or their excitement for the next day. Instead he could hear the wind blowing through trees and the occasional bird chirping from its perch on a nearby rock. When he wanted complete silence, he would immerse himself in the cool water, opening his eyes to see fish darting between the rays of sun entering the water.

Most of the time, he floated on his back looking up at the almost cloudless sky. In this position, he could observe the beauty of the day, while keeping his ears submerged. Which is why he did not notice that someone else sat by the water’s edge a few meters away.

The other boy had not noticed Victor either as he was mostly shielded by a particularly large boulder sitting in the water. He seemed to be around the same age as Victor, but with curly black hair and skin the color of coffee with just a drop of milk. His full lips were just barely moving as if he was singing quietly to himself. He was bent towards the water, filling two jugs of water carefully before capping them.

Victor had never seen anyone like him before. The country he and his brother were traveling in, Parvos, was north of theirs and while people at the border looked fairly similar to Victor himself, most were slightly fairer. Victor had a golden tan and would rarely receive sunburns, but natives would definitely burn. Thus, it was clear to Victor that this boy was a visitor. A visitor to the town they were about to destroy.

He slipped out of the water silently, trying not to disturb the boy and carefully put on his trousers. He tucked a dagger into his waist band and left his shirt and sword behind. Victor knew that he should leave immediately before the stranger could see him or even recognize him. He was sure he had never seen this boy before, but with all the destruction that followed their wake, Victor was pretty sure that his and Bryce’s character descriptions had been widely spread. Regardless, Victor edged closer.

There was something about the boy that Victor found intriguing. Maybe it was the way he looked so carefree, like there was nowhere he needed to be, no one he needed to see, and no one he needed to be. He could just be himself. The boy’s appearance had hinted at his foreignness, but now that Victor was looking more closely he noticed that his clothes were different too. They were definitely travelers’ clothes, although they were much brighter than any clothes he had ever seen. This boy was definitely not hiding.

The closer Victor got, the clearer the boy’s singing became. He could hear distinct words now, though he did not understand them. They were in some language Victor had never heard before. His tutors had tried to teach him and his siblings every language spoken on the content, and yet he had never heard this one before.

Victor tucked his hair behind his ears as the ends continued to drip, making streaks down his torso. With the warm weather he would dry soon enough, although not before the boy noticed Victor spying on him.

The boy looked up suddenly, as if someone had shouted his name. Victor froze in surprise. His footsteps had been near silent, but somehow the boy had heard them.

Victor did not say a word, too shocked to think of anything and not sure that even if he did speak whether the boy would be able to understand him. In the moment, it was not necessary as the boy seemed to study him. Victor clenched his fists nervously wondering if the boy may have recognized him, but there was no fear in his eyes. He only looked at Victor with curiosity.

He stood up and Victor realized how tall the boy actually was.  From what Victor could see, the boy was just a few inches shorter than him with a lean but muscular body.

“Hello,” Victor said after some time had passed.

“Hello,” the boy responded.

“Sorry, I did not mean to interrupt,” Victor said carefully, “I only wanted to swim.” He spoke slowly and slightly louder than usual, miming the action of swimming.

The boy only smiled, “There is no need for an apology. I’ve only come to get some water and I will be on my way. Enjoy your swim.” There was a sarcastic hint to his voice as if this was not the first time someone had talked to him as if he were a simpleton.

Victor felt his face redden in embarrassment. “I did not mean to imply – I was not sure if you understood – I…I apologize again, this time for my ignorance. I suppose that talking louder and slower would not help you understand if you did not speak the language.”

“No, it wouldn’t, would it?” the stranger said, smiling more widely with his head cocked. “I accept your apology.” He inclined his head as if in goodbye, but before he could leave Victor spoke up.

“I’m Teddy,” Victor said, holding out his hand before the boy could leave. He was too worried to give his real name, so he gave the name that Brianna often called him, which happen to be after one of her childhood plush toys.

“Peter.” The boy shook Victor’s hand in a firm grip.

“You’re a traveler, right? What part of the world are you travelling from?” Peter could not help himself from asking. There was something about this boy that intrigued him. It made Victor wistful about the boy he wished he could be.

Peter hesitated before answering. Thalassia was a country Victor had heard of before and as he expected, it was across the ocean along the coast of a completely different continent. Victor could remember a few details about Peter’s country, which he had learned about during his lessons. The natives relied on trade and exporting their goods for money. Fish was a staple in almost every home. They were peaceful, but were not known for traveling much except for when they exported goods. They especially were not known to travel this far inland. And from what Victor could remember, they spoke a different language, which made Peter’s fluency that much more impressive.

“Have you been there before?” Peter asked, when Victor explained his familiarity with it.

“No, I have not, but given the chance I would love to visit.”

“You really should, if you think this place is beautiful, just wait until you see our shores,” Peter smirked.

Victor could picture it. Peter lounging on the beach, brown skin getting gloriously darker, curly hair damp with sea water, and sand clinging to his skin. He could imagine the vivid colors of his clothes adding to the richness of color surrounding him, from the aquamarine of the water to the emerald leaves hanging from palm trees. He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to leave a place like that.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you leave? Why travel here?” He gestured to the view in front of them. This particular spot was beautiful. There were a few clouds in the sky, but it was mostly blue. The water was still as a mirror now that Victor was no longer swimming and reflected the sky perfectly. It was towards the end of summer. Still warm, but Victor knew that soon the blissful breeze and green leaves were about to give way to yellow grass, hard packed earth and steely grey skies. Meanwhile Thalassia would continue to have pleasantly mild weather all throughout the year.

“I won’t lie. Sometimes I miss it.” He closed his eyes as a gust of wind blew his hair as if remembering the salty gusts near the ocean. “But there wasn’t anything for me there. My father builds ships for exporting goods. As did his father before him and his father before him and so on. We’ve built all these ships and yet we rarely sail, except to go fishing, and we’ve never ventured far from home. I couldn’t sit there for another moment wondering what my life could be like with a little adventure in it. I did not want to live knowing every single detail of how my life would pan out.” He took a deep breath after rushing through the words. “I just needed a fresh start.”

Victor couldn’t help asking, “What did your father think?”

“Oh, he was overjoyed that his only son was as he put it ‘abandoning him and the family to chase fairytales and fantasies that would never come true.’” He smiled darkly as if the words still bothered him, but perhaps not as much as they once did. Peter shook his head, as if shaking off the memory. “At some point in your life you just have to stand up for yourself and do what you think is right for you. You can’t just live someone else’s life because they think you should. If you only live to please other people, you’ll never be happy.”

There was a moment of silence. Victor could not help but admire Peter for his courage and his confidence in himself.

“Was it worth it?” Victor asked, genuinely curious.

“For me, it was,” Peter said, not looking at Victor as if lost in thought. “How much have you traveled?” he said finally, making eye contact with Victor.

“Aside from Parvos? I have been to a few other bordering countries.”

“But you have never left the continent?”

Victor shook his head, feeling somewhat embarrassed he hadn't thought to before.

Peter saw this and grinned, not in a mean way, but with a look of wonder.

“The world is mad out there. There are so many people. So many people who follow the same traditions every day, eating the same food, talking to the same people, without knowing anything outside of themselves.

“I've had so many experiences, so many adventures, that I would never trade for anything. I have given up everything I have to live the life I've been living, and yet there are people who don't even want to know what's out there. They are content in their lives. Which is not a bad thing. They're living full and satisfied lives, but how do they know that there's not something better out there if they don't even try to look for it?” He's looking back at me when he asks his question, as if he's waiting for an answer.

“I…I don't know.” It was a lie. He did know. People got so comfortable in their day to day lives that they never thought to make a change. There are people who suffer every day, most of whom are not lucky enough to be able to change their lives, but for those that can…Sometimes it's easier to accept the pain that you know, instead of putting yourself at risk to potential unforeseeable pain. Victor would know.

Victor had fought countless battles and had come close to death a handful of times, but standing in front of Peter now, he could clearly tell that he was the coward.

Brianna’s words came back to him. Why had he never stood up to his brother? To his father? Why had he not done more to stop the carnage? He hated the life he was living, the person he was. He always told himself that he wasn’t the same as his brother or the other soldiers they traveled with. He never enjoyed the killing and he always resented them for forcing him to join them, but he still did it.

“You are very wise for your age,” Victor said seriously, but Peter laughed as if it were a joke.

“Well this wise and unbelievably young man is starting to sweat standing here in the sun talking to a complete stranger about his life story.” Victor laughed weakly, but the crease between his brows remained. What was he going to do? He couldn’t keep blaming his actions on his brother. On his father. If he wanted to lead a different life he could. He should. And that would have to start with him somehow intervening in his brother’s – in their plans for tomorrow. He should follow Peter back into the village. Maybe he could warn the people of what was coming before it happened. But before Victor could say a word, Peter spoke, “Mind if I join you for a swim?”

Victor opened his mouth to politely decline, but before he could even get the words out Peter was already peeling off his vest and pulling his tunic over his head.

“Umm, I don’t think –” Victor said, uncharacteristically stumbling over his words.

With each piece Peter took off he folded them neatly and placed them on a nearby rock until he was standing in only his undergarments staring at Victor.

Victor could not help but stare back. Peter’s skin was flawless, his arms defined, and his abdomen carved as if from stone. He felt his stomach turn over and his heart rate start to beat unevenly as Peter stood, unabashedly in front of him. It took Victor a moment to realize that Peter was waiting for him to strip down as well.

He felt his cheeks warm as he remembered that he was wearing nothing but his trousers and a few lingering droplets of water. His undergarments lay forgotten near his tunic.

He cleared his throat, trying to draw his mind back to more pressing matters. He tried again to request Peter’s help in finding the village and talking to the locals when Peter took a step forward.

He laughed softly. This time Victor noticed the way Peter was looking at him. At his dripping wet hair, at the soft hair on his chest, and at the way his trousers clung to his wet skin. He must realize that Victor wasn’t wearing any undergarments, but he only looked amused.

“The rest of your clothes are nearby I assume?” he asked, trying to hold back an even wider smile from emerging. “Oh yes, there they are,” Peter said after taking a few steps closer. He was close enough that Victor could reach out and touch him if he wanted to. He held back though as he stepped closer to Peter, this time determined to speak.

“Peter, if I could ask you a favor, I would –” He stopped talking when Peter froze, the expression on his face going from amused to expressionless in one moment. Peter turned to look at Victor again studying his features carefully.

Victor realized what had happened just as Peter moved to attack him. Peter was fast. He managed to punch Victor across the face as Victor tried to regroup and focus on this new turn of events. Victor recovered quickly though, and in a manner of seconds he had Peter in a headlock with his knife no longer tucked in his pants, but at Peter’s throat.

“Please just listen,” Victor said. His eyes swept their surroundings to make sure no one had heard the ruckus they had made. Fortunately for Victor, they were alone, but there amongst his clothes he spotted his sword. He’d had it since he was thirteen years old. It was a double-edged longsword, made of the finest metal, and with the sigil of their house on the hilt, a rose surrounded by curling vines laden with sharp thorns. Bryce had an identical sword and they both used it whenever they went pillaging. Victor knew there were few swords like theirs in the world. The only other ones he had seen belonged to his father and, more recently, his sister.

At this moment, Victor realized that more than his and his brother’s character descriptions had made it across Parvos. Their signature weapons were now common knowledge. “I don’t want to hurt you. I only want to explain.”

Peter struggled in his hold, but Victor kept him steady as he let the words stream out of his mouth as quickly as water shooting out of a fountain.

“I know you know who I am and I know there’s no reason for you to give me the benefit of the doubt, but please believe that I had no intention of hurting you.”

“And why should I believe you?” Peter gasped out between breaths.

“If you know who I am you must know what I have done, who I am here with, and why we are here. If I had any intention of following through, I would have stopped you from going back to the village. I would have…ensured that you did not go back to alert the others of our arrival.” He would have killed him, but he skipped over the word, too uncomfortable to speak it aloud even though he had committed the act more times than he could count. “However, I had every intention of letting you go. Have every intention of letting you go,” he corrected himself, “I am going to let you warn the villagers, unscathed.” To show Peter that he was telling the truth he let go of him slowly and dropped his knife to the ground before holding his hands up to show that they were clearly empty.

Peter stumbled a few steps, his breathing ragged and hands at his throat. He kept his eyes on Victor though, his suspicion still present.

“I know it might be hard to believe but I have never enjoyed the…tasks I have been given. I have never taken any pleasure in it. I have only done enough to fulfill my duty, but now I realize that that is a really shitty reason to continue doing it.” Peter raised his eyebrows at that, but said nothing as Victor rushed through his words. “It took me six years to realize it, but I don’t belong here. It’s not right what we’ve been doing. What I’ve been doing.”

“It took you six years to realize that killing innocent people was wrong?” Peter said half in disbelief and half in disgust.

“They don’t frame it to you that way. They tell you that you’re protecting your country. Your family. Your friends. That you’re doing the unimaginable so that your loved ones don’t have to face it. That you’re doing your duty. It makes you feel important. Strong. Essential. Until you’re able to see what’s really going on. And some don’t ever realize it. Or choose not to.”

“Are you expecting a medal or something?” Peter said, standing up straight now that he was breathing normally again. The scowl on his face seemed to have found a permanent resting spot.

“All of this is only to say that I don’t want to do it anymore. I want to be part of the solution not the problem.” He hesitated before continuing, “I want to take my life in my own hands and not follow the path that my father took before me. I want to create my own destiny and do what I think is right even if my family does not agree.”

There was shock on Peter’s face even as he tried to keep his anger plain on his face.

“Fine,” Peter said, “you have one chance to prove yourself. Assist me in helping these villagers to escape and…we’ll see where we go from there.”

“Okay,” Victor said, feeling relieved.

“And if you’re lying, I’ll find you and kill you myself.”

Between the two of them, Victor was bigger and clearly the better fighter, but Peter’s words had enough conviction in them that he believed every word.

Victor proved his worth. He recounted their plans to Peter, the size of their company, the number of weapons, and the timing of when they would strike.

The following day, no lives were lost on either side.

Victor and his brother moved into the village after their look out reported that the village was in fact empty. Bryce went ballistic, sure that someone had heard them moving in closer to the town and threatened to kill the lookout. Victor stepped in before he could do any fatal damage and Bryce walked away fuming.

Next time, Victor would have to be more careful to make sure no one had to pay for his decisions. Or at least, he hoped there would be a next time.

Victor did not see Peter for another month. He didn’t know how Peter did it, but he somehow found him right before they reached the next town in danger. And the next. And the next after that. He always waited until Peter was alone and together, they would devise a carefully laid out plan to protect the next group of villagers.

From that time on they worked together and each time their numbers would grow. First it was a father who wanted to protect his family. Then a woman who owned a boarding house in town. Then the town welder. With every village they saved, more civilians became rebels. Little by little they stopped hiding. Instead they bid their time. They laid traps. They fed the Parvosi rebellion until they felt strong enough to fight for themselves.

Five years later and they were at war.

Peter liked to joke that he was lucky that he ran into the right brother that day at the lake. However, all Victor could think of was how lucky he was to find Peter that day. Without him, he wondered how long it would have taken him to find the bravery he needed to do the right thing.

Chapter 9

VICTOR

Present Day

“Brianna, please.” Victor’s voice wavered as he spoke the words, even as his hands stayed steady on his bow.

Peter did not dare move, but his eyes tried to find the person behind the voice that he had been searching for the past few hours.

She looked at him shocked, but kept her sword where it was.

“I don’t – I don’t understand.” It was the first time her confidence wavered since the battle started.

“Please, just let me explain.” Victor was brought back five years ago to when he had uttered the same words to Peter, only this time it wasn’t him holding a blade to Peter’s throat. The universe was playing a sick joke on him. “Brianna, just put down your weapon and I’ll explain.”

She stared at Victor. She saw the fear in his eyes and heard the desperation in his voice. For the first time in a long time she faltered. She glanced at Peter one more time before lowering her sword and taking a step back. Victor rushed forward immediately to Peter turning his face gently towards him.

“Are you okay?” he said, eyes darting worriedly at the blood on his face.

“It’s worse than it looks.” He tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. Ignoring Peter’s words, Victor looked over him carefully. To Victor’s relief, the blood streaking Peter’s face was from a superficial wound. The injury at his side, however, was more concerning. There was still blood still leaking from his side. Victor removed the belt from around his waist and tore a few scraps of fabric from the parts of his tunic that looked the cleanest. He carefully wrapped the belt around Peter’s torso with the cloth directly on the wound. Peter took in a sharp intake of breath, squeezing Victor’s arm strong enough to draw blood, but once the belt was on the bleeding stopped significantly.

“Can you stand?” When Peter nodded, Victor offered his arm and with his help they got him to his feet. Victor’s work wasn’t perfect. Peter would need medical attention soon, but Victor hoped that the pressure of the belt would be enough to keep him standing until they were alone.

“Victor, what is going on?” Brianna demanded, but from the way she was looking at them, it was obvious that she already had an idea of what was going on.

“I – I’m working with them. The rebels. Peter and I are working together. And I – Brianna, I love him.”

There were a million questions she wanted to ask. How could he betray their family? Their country? She tried to think back on the last few years trying to determine whether she had noticed any kind of change. Was there some fundamental shift in his character that she missed? But with Bryce going on more and more failed raids, and her entering the military, they had spent less time together, just the two of them.

The only time they really saw each other was when they worked together. They would plan attacks, go over strategies, and constantly train for battle. In public he was his usual quiet and observant self. He did stay by Bryce’s side more than usual, but she just assumed he did it to keep their brother in check. The more Bryce’s plans were thwarted, the more violent he got.

The rare times she was with him, they would talk mostly about her. About her accomplishments as the first female general in their military. About whatever man or woman she was interested in at the time. At how annoying Bryce was and wondering how they could ever be related to someone so vile.

He had always listened to her. Teased her. Laughed with her just as he always had. But now that she thought about it, maybe he did talk a little less than he usually did with her. In their moments of silence, she would notice him staring wistfully into the distance, with a sad smile on his face. Or he would close his eyes whenever the wind was strong enough to lift his curls, enjoying the breeze as if he was lounging on the beach instead of going on long walks through the muddy forest.

If this was Bryce…well this would never be Bryce. For all his faults, he would never betray his country. He was so much like their father in that way. Patriotic to a fault. Not that she ever thought Victor would betray his country either. However, between the two of them, Victor was the one she was willing to give the benefit of doubt, even as her mind told her that she should be executing him for his traitorous actions.

All those questions ran through her mind, but all she could get out was, “Why?”

“Father always said that we fought foreigners to protect Robusia. That the bordering Parvosi villages only brought violence and chaos to our lands. That they would take our food, our farming land, and kill any of our people to get ahead. That we had to hurt them before they could hurt us, but the truth was that he wanted something from them…Something from their lands. Look at my sword,” he said, pointing to the longsword that Peter had spotted that day, years ago. “Look at your own.” Brianna held out the sword in her hand. “Look at the metal. It’s unlike anything I have ever seen before. No one else has blades like ours. Look at how sharp they’ve managed to make the edge, how well balanced it is. Father always seemed to have gifts made for us after one of his raids. Where do you think he got the metal for it? (Perhaps here you can say something about Peter and update us on what he is doing? Has he stopped bleeding? While talking does Victor go over to him to give him first aid to stop the bleeding?)

“Bryce and I were the only ones with these swords ten years ago, but now look at how many of us have them. Me. You. The other generals. Most of the lieutenants. Even some of the soldiers. Why have we only just started to make them? Think about it,” he said, urgently, “we have always traveled in two teams. The team that raids the village and the team that arrives a couple days after the village has been cleared to ‘deal with the aftermath.’”

“The beta team is there to flatten the town. To make sure that no one else may live there so that there are no invaders living too close to the border.” Brianna forced the explanation out, but what little hope she had in her father, in Bryce, was starting to fade.

“It wasn’t until four years ago that I started to realize that we were there for more than protection. More than that, it took me a long time to realize what kind of person I wanted to be, but it wasn’t this,” he said, as he gestured to their surroundings. “I didn’t want to be like our father or like Bryce. I wanted to be my own person.”

A good person. He didn’t say it, but Brianna understood without him having to say anything.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Brianna said, as she struggled to hold on to her last shred of suspicion. If his story was true, why wouldn’t he have warned her in advance? Years ago, instead of today on the battlefield.

“I wanted to, but by the time we were together again, you had already worked your way into the military. You were rising in the ranks and you were so happy. So proud to be where you were. And you had taken what the others had said to heart. You embraced your duty more than others. And I just couldn’t…I didn’t know if you would understand.”

“I am not some kind of sheep that just follows orders and can’t think for themselves,” she said, angrily. “When you’re a woman in the military – the first woman in the military – you cannot show any weakness. I had to embrace my duties – live my duties – because that was the only way to make sure no one ever questioned my presence there.”

Victor had nothing to say to that except, “I am truly sorry.” There were so many times that he had wanted to confront her. To reveal everything, he had learned. How he had changed since he met Peter. Since they joined the rebellion.  But overtime it felt as though she was drifting away from him and closer to Bryce. Not that she had ever liked Bryce, but she always seemed to enjoy their raids. She seemed to look forward to the battle, to put the foreigners in “their place.” He should have known that deep down, she was nothing like that person.

Peter stayed silent during their exchange. His head was throbbing, but he was starting to gain his bearings again. Victor’s makeshift bandaging helped, but it was more than that. It was as if having Victor there with him had given him an extra boost of energy. Just enough to make their escape through the chaos.

There was no break in battle, but even so no one dared to get closer than a few meters away from them as they talked. Those who got close enough gave a cursory glance and then turned the other way once they saw Victor and Brianna. Whether they thought it was Victor or Bryce it was hard to tell. They most likely did not want to stick around long enough to find out.

Brianna opened her mouth to say something. Victor waited, scared for what she would say. Would she understand? For the first time, she seemed as if she was at a loss for words.

What she would have said, neither of them would ever know.

Peter was the first one to notice the shift. The screams seemed to get louder. The panic rising. People were moving faster trying to get out of the way. And then he saw him. It was the face that he had loved for five years. The beautiful face that he dreamed of whenever they were apart. The strong jaw that he would kiss softly before bed. The curly hair he would run his hands through. The strong body that made him feel like he would always feel safe despite the danger they were planning to thrust themselves into.

This face, though, made him feel anything but safe. His hair was shorter than Victor’s, his eyes meaner, and his nostrils flared. He had a cruel smile on his face as if he was happy to see them. Overjoyed to have spotted them. As if he had been searching for them and had finally found them just in time for his sword to come down on them.

Chapter 10

BRYCE

Three Days Ago

Brianna was a pain in his ass. She had been a pain in his ass ever since she learned how to talk and she was still a pain in his ass for the same reason. During war room meetings she was the loudest voice in the room. She was constantly speaking over him and the other generals. Victor, as usual, did not seem to care. He just sat there waiting for everyone else to make decisions for him, like a pushover.

The other generals used to share Bryce’s opinions of his little sister. She was in over her head and did not belong here working with the rest of them. They deliberately kept her out of meetings and drowned out her voice with theirs whenever she tried to talk, but she just would not give up.

Eventually, it was the other generals who gave up. They got tired of trying to exclude her, especially because she would worm her way into conversations anyway. He blamed Victor for that.

He did his best to ignore her when that happened. He expected the other generals to do the same but then, at some point the other generals actually started to listen to what she was saying. Bryce didn’t understand how having one good idea once in a blue moon was enough to turn them, but soon enough their voices were drowned out and her voice was the only one Bryce could hear.

He kept his mouth shut though. None of the others were brave enough anymore to speak up, especially after they saw her fight. Bryce could admit that her fighting had gotten significantly better, but he was still sure that he could beat her in a fight.

It was at the end of one of those meetings that Bryce noticed something strange happen. For as long as Bryce could remember, Victor spent all of his free time with their sister. No matter the hour. No matter how tired he was. No matter how busy he was. He always managed to waste his time with Brianna.

Bryce didn’t care. He had his own group of friends to spend time with. Friends that actually cared about the work they were doing and wouldn’t mope for hours after raiding one of the bordering villages. Not that they had been able to do their jobs properly for the past few years. Those slimy villagers always managed to slip through his fingers.

A smile came to his face though as he thought about how all of that would change in just a few days. It was true that the Parvosi rebellion had grown over the years, but in battle on an open field, with nowhere for them to hide, they stood no chance against him.

His good mood only got better as Victor turned down Brianna’s request to train after the meeting. He claimed he needed a break after the tensions of planning for war. Her face fell slightly, but she recovered quickly leaving Victor alone. Bryce chuckled quietly to himself. His night was starting off pretty well, he thought, as he started to go in the direction of his tent where he knew his friends would be waiting for him. He glanced back one more time, hoping to see Brianna leaving, but instead he saw Victor standing where she left him.

His face was usually pretty blank. Like a dog waiting for his master’s orders, but at the moment he looked apprehensive. Bryce didn’t think much of it until Victor starting walking. Despite claiming to need rest, Victor was heading in the opposite direction from his tent. Normally, Bryce couldn’t care less what Victor was up to. Ever since their dad died, the two of them had started to drift apart. Victor was constantly chiding Bryce and it was getting to him more and more with every passing day, to the point where Bryce started avoiding Victor.

If it was up to him, he would have given Victor a much needed beating a long time ago to put him in his place, but his dad always told the two of them to rely on each other. That they could fight others, but never each other. And Bryce planned to abide by his father’s words, at least for the time being.

Maybe it was the reminder of his father’s words or the look on Victor’s face, but in that moment, instead of joining his friends he decided to follow Victor.

Victor walked throughout the camp, nodding to soldiers and occasionally waving at some of them. Some fucking smiled back. Most people did not dare to catch Bryce’s eyes when he walked by them. He commanded respect, just as a leader should. Just as his father had.

He didn’t think anything more of Victor’s behavior until he started getting to the edge of the camp. Bryce kept to the shadows, watching him, as Victor did a cursory glance before discretely leaving the camp. He carried a canteen with him as if he was going to refill it at the stream a few kilometers away, but the tenseness in his shoulders made Bryce think otherwise.

So, he continued to follow him.

Through the grassy valley, past the trickling stream where Victor should have filled his canteen, and into the dense forest. Bryce had to keep his distance most of the way, to stay out of Victor’s sight, but once they were in the forest he managed to get closer.

It wasn’t until the light from a clearing up ahead was visible that the tenseness in Victor’s shoulders started to dissipate. Bryce began to move faster, ready to finally confront Victor, to demand what the hell he was doing here, when a second figure appeared.

He didn’t look like anyone Bryce had ever seen before. Definitely a foreigner, but different than the ones they were meant to fight in just a few days. What was he doing here?

The question was quickly answered as Victor took the stranger in his arms.

“Peter,” he said, as if he had been in the desert for days and had just taken a long drink of water.

The man – Peter – pulled Victor towards him for a kiss.

Out of everything Bryce had been expecting it certainly was not this. Victor had a secret boyfriend? That was what he was hiding? What a waste of Bryce’s time and energy.

“How are you?” Victor said, once he had pulled back from the kiss. He caressed Peter’s hair lovingly while tilting his chin up to place another kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Is everything moving smoothly?”

“I’ve told you already, we have everything under control. The plan will go well. Soldiers are in place and ready. Your brother will never know what hit him.”

At that, Bryce jerked back as if he was struck. Was Victor…could that degenerate be working with the Parvosi rebels?

“I know, I know. I just can’t help but worry about you.” Victor mumbled as he trailed a line of kisses from Peter’s jaw and down along the slope of his neck.

There was a moment of silence in Bryce’s mind before the rage came rushing in.

How long had his brother been working with the rebels? Was this why the rebels were always one step ahead of them? Victor was playing spy?

“Do I need to remind you that I can take care of myself.”

Victor pulled back smiling. “Hmm, yes, remind me.”

Peter placed a quick kiss on Victor’s lips before releasing him. In the clearing, Victor pulled out his sword and Peter did the same. Together they trained for hours and Bryce watched attentively the entire time. Victor’s fighting was nothing new, Bryce had been fighting alongside his brother his entire life, but Peter…through his anger, Bryce could not help but be intrigued by this man’s fighting style. He was light on his feet. Sturdy, but fluid, moving like water in and out of the way. Striking and dodging. It reminded him a little of Brianna’s fighting style, except Peter’s moves seemed more intentional and practiced, while hers were more natural and instinctual as if fighting was second nature to her. Not that Bryce would ever admit it.

Peter managed to win a few rounds, but Victor still won the majority of the time. If Peter managed to beat Victor in combat, even only a handful of times, an average soldier would not stand a chance against him. Did all the rebel soldiers fight like him? If they did, Bryce was now worried that they might have underestimated the rebellion.

And as Bryce observed and tried to determine just how unprepared they might be in just a few days, he simultaneously plotted against his brother. His traitorous brother. His dad had urged them to watch over one another, but it seemed as though Victor no longer cared about that. All those years, Victor had held Bryce back from his every impulse. Bryce had trusted Victor, or at least tolerated him to please their father, but now he wondered if Victor had only done it to stop Bryce from reaching victory.

After going back and forth for a couple hours, Peter and Victor looked like their training was finally winding down to a close. Victor had tackled Peter to the ground and he now held his sword at Peter’s throat, but before relief could form in Bryce’s chest he saw that Victor was only teasing his lover. For it was clear that they were lovers. That they had been for some time now and somehow the bastard had kept it a secret all this time.

Victor sat on Peter grinning. Bryce watched as Peter rolled his eyes and then pulled Victor down for another kiss. When he sat up the look on both their faces was so sickly sweet that it threatened to make Bryce sick. As they spoke quietly with each other, though, Bryce realized that they were once again going over their plans for the upcoming battle.

Bryce got as close to the edge of the clearing as he could without being seen. In his new position he heard the tail end of Victor’s thoughts, “…even so, we will take a few precautions. When the other generals and I take to the field make sure to stick to my flank. The right flank, which will be closest to the forest edge.”

“I know the plan.”

“I know you do. Just a few more days and we won’t have to think about this shit anymore. We’ll finally be on our own, free to do as we please…as long as we’re together, everything will be fine.”

Bryce bristled at Victor’s words. Not only was he planning on betraying his country, but he was planning to escape in just a few days.

Bryce would like to see him try.

Peter pulled Victor down for another kiss and Bryce had to hold himself back from attacking them then and there. How casually Victor plotted the downfall of his own nation.

“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” Victor asked as he untangled himself from Peter. He laid down next to him so they were both on their sides facing each other. From this angle, Bryce could only see Peter’s expressions as Victor’s back was to him.

Peter caressed his lover’s cheek and spoke so softly, Bryce had to strain to hear. Was Victor feeling some form of regret? Remorse for not only betraying his country, but his own family?

“We’ve helped them as much as we can,” Peter said, “They have their own leaders now. Their own weapons. We’ve helped trained their soldiers and now their soldiers can train any new recruits. We’ve given five years to their cause and we’ve done good work, but this is their fight, not ours.” Five years?! For five years his brother lied to him. To his commanders. Helped the rebels. Now that Bryce thought about it, that was just about the time that the rebels started to evade Bryce’s grasp. It all began to make sense. It was Victor’s doing from the start.

“And it’s only a matter of time before your family finds out. We want to be long gone before your sister, much less your brother, has an opportunity to find out.”

“I wish I could tell Brianna. She should know what’s going on.” Victor’s voice was laced with sadness. Through Bryce’s anger was a hint of surprise. So, the little bitch was not part of it, he thought to himself. Though he hated to admit it, Brianna seemed just a little bit better in his eyes than she did before.

“I wish you could too,” Peter pressed a kiss to Victor’s cheek. He looked just as sad as Victor sounded. Bryce had to stop himself from scoffing. Fuck them both.

 Peter continued, “There are too many lives at risk. You’ll just have to trust that she can take care of herself and that she’s smart enough to figure out the real reason why your people keep attacking these lands.”

Bryce hesitated at their words. Did they know? But, how would they? Just as his father had, he kept their mining discreet. It was the one secret his father had urged him to keep from Victor. Your brother doesn’t have the stomach for it, he told him before their first raid, but you, I know you are strong enough to handle it. And he had until now. He’d been the strong son. The one they all feared. The leader amongst their men. Was it all for nothing? Had the rebels found out about the resources that remained hidden under their mountains. If the rebels had, and if they were smart, they would have much better weapons than he and the other generals could have guessed. And with Peter and Victor training the rebel soldiers…

“I guess,” Victor said, but he still sounded uncertain.

“You are going to love the ocean,” Peter said, changing the subject. He ran his fingers through Victor’s hair, “it’s just so open. It’s freeing being surrounded by that much water. It makes you realize just how big the world is and how much there is to see…and I can’t wait to show you all of it.”

They began cooing at each other, making their plans, their voices full of love and hope. It was all Bryce could do to pull himself from the scene in front of him. To not kill them where they lay, but to wait.

He just needed to postpone their deaths for three days. He could care less about this stranger’s involvement in the rebellion, but his brother? His brother had just sealed both of their fates. Victor and Peter would die before they ever managed to step foot on a boat. Right when they thought they were free, Bryce would be there to cut them down where they stood. He would drag them through the woods, hidden from the others, and there he would take his time. He would kill Peter slowly while Victor watched, until Victor himself wanted to die. Then Bryce would leave Victor bound to a tree so he would have to watch as his lover’s body began to decay and as he himself starved to death.

It was a satisfying enough picture that Bryce was able to leave them there unscathed. Satisfying enough to keep his brother’s betrayal a secret for the next three days, until he could enact the revenge that his brother most surely deserved.

Chapter 11

VICTOR

Present Day

“Hello brother,” Bryce said, walking over to them casually. As if there was not a war going on around them. As if he had all the time in the world. However, there was nothing casual about how he held his sword as he approached them.

Victor moved trying to subtly block Peter from view.

Peter frowned as Bryce was momentarily out of sight, but he didn’t dare say a word to Victor. He would have liked to keep an eye on Bryce, just as you would never take your eyes off of a rabid beast you were trapped in a room with. Instead, Peter took his time assessing his injuries. His side was still bleeding, though slower now than before, and the edges of his vision were slightly fuzzy. Nonetheless, he did his best to gather his strength in case they had to fight or run. Although, based on the way Bryce had been looking at them, he was pretty sure it would be the former.

Victor examined his brother carefully. He knew his brother well. Knew when he was angry or when he was out of patience. Knew when his tantrums were coming on or when he needed to be left alone. So, when Bryce had not gone into an immediate rage at the sight of Victor helping Peter, Victor knew that there was something wrong.

Bryce had not looked surprised to see his brother standing next to a rebel soldier. Helping an injured rebel soldier. Bryce smiled as if he was pleased to find them there. He knew. He knew about them, although it was not clear to Victor how much Bryce knew about his involvement with the rebels.

The longer no one spoke, the higher tensions rose. The space around them, only a couple meters wide before, was now growing as soldiers moved out of their way despite the pandemonium. The rebels made sure to keep their distance from Bryce. Along with the stories that circulated about Bryce, Victor had warned them enough to give them a healthy dose of fear. Likewise, Bryce’s soldiers were too afraid of him to step out of line, so the fighting continued without pause, even as both sides gave them a large berth.

Bryce, finally came to a halt when he was a couple meters away.

“Were you ever going to introduce me to your lover?”

Victor and Peter tensed at his words.

So, he knew more than Victor had expected. Not that he had expected anything. Bryce was usually only concerned with himself and his own victory, so Victor had just assumed that Bryce had been paying very little attention to him. Or had Victor started using that as an excuse to start paying less attention to Bryce?

“What do you want?” Victor asked, even though he knew the answer. There was not a forgiving bone in Bryce’s body. The way he clenched the hilt of his sword and the way the fingers on his free hand kept twitching told Victor that Bryce was holding himself back from a fight. He had seen Bryce play with his prey first before devouring them and this did not seem to be much different.

“Is that any way to speak to your brother, traitor?”

Yes, there was little doubt in Victor’s mind at how this would play out. It would seem that any protection that came with being Bryce’s twin had all but disappeared.

The one wild card in this situation was his sister. She had looked just as surprised as he had when Bryce appeared. Victor surveyed her trying to determine which side she would fall on. He had logic on his side. He had her love on his side. And she hated Bryce, truly hated him, but she loved her country. She would do anything for her country. Die for her country.

Was her love for Victor enough of a reason for her to fight on his side? Or at the very least, let them leave without stopping them?

There was only one thing left for him to do. As futile as it was, he had to try.

“Brother, please,” he begged, taking a step forward, “I understand your anger, but please let Peter go. He doesn’t belong here. Look at him, he’s not from this land. Let him leave here peacefully and I will return with you. Let me face the generals, let them deal out their justice.”

“Victor,” Peter said, alarmed, but Bryce only laughed harder.

“You think I care about that? About them?” asked Bryce. Peter stilled, but with Bryce distracted, Victor took another discrete step forward. “I have my own form of justice in mind. Something a lot more…satisfying than the chopping block.”

Victor moved before the last word was out of Bryce’s mouth. The knife and scabbard at his back were missing, so he pulled his second knife from his boot and shot it towards Bryce’s chest. He heard the clang of metal as Bryce blocked the flying knife with his blade, but Victor had already yanked his two swords out of the ground. His couple of steps had brought him just close enough to reach them in one bound.

As good as a swordsman Bryce was, he would always let his pride get in the way. And to see Victor begging for Peter’s life…Victor knew that Bryce would not have been able to resist seeing his brother belittle himself like that.

With his weapons in hand, Victor ran back into the fray with Peter at his side.

It was a simple plan, but if Victor was right, they should be able to make it to the forest.

Victor could hear the echoes of Bryce’s chuckle as Victor led the way, swords high, while Peter stayed as close behind him as he could.

Victor knew that Bryce couldn’t resist the chase. The longer he got to play with his prey the happier he would be.

Victor heard the stomping of Bryce’s boots against the earth as he began to follow them into the disarray, but it didn’t last long. Bryce thudded to the ground. Victor sighed in relief as the last piece of his plan fell into place and together, he and Peter were lost in a sea of soldiers, fighting the current, as they moved in the direction of the trees.

Chapter 12

BRIANNA

Bryce’s appearance had frozen Brianna in place. She could not move or talk. All she could do was watch the situation in front of her unfold as her mind reeled. Was what Victor said true? Had she been helping her country kill innocent people so that they could steal from them? Had she been following them blindly in an attempt for them to accept her as one of their own?

She trusted Victor more than anyone in the world now that her mother had passed. Which made this situation even more confusing. Why would he lie to her? Had he become untrustworthy over the years, or had she?

She heard Bryce call their brother a traitor.

He was a traitor. A traitor to their men, to the other generals, to their people.

Or was she the traitor? Was she betraying the trust of her people by following untrustworthy leaders? For not questioning their true intentions? For leading them into an unnecessary war where thousands would die? Innocents would die on either side, for she knew in her heart that Victor was right.

She remembered when her father had given her her blade only a month before he died.

He had been reluctant at first, but their mother had persuaded him as she always had. Much in the same way that Victor would always persuade Bryce, or “guide” him as her mother would say, to do the right thing. Bryce and Victor had received their own weapons upon joining the army, why shouldn’t she?

The material was different than anything she had ever practiced with. Light, but sturdy. Long, but well balanced. It swept through the air easily with her every move. For the first time, she had found a worthy partner for her to dance with.

She couldn’t help but wonder if her mother had known what was really happening. Had she known where the mysterious alloy had come from? No, she couldn’t have. Her mom would have stopped her father. Brianna was sure of it.

What would her mother think of her now, helping evil men enact their secret plans?

She would want Brianna to stand her ground and do what she thought was right.

Brianna could almost hear her mother saying, Brianna you proved those misogynistic generals wrong once before and you can do it again!

She felt a small smile creep upon her face, but Bryce was too busy laughing at whatever Victor had just said to notice.

She watched Victor and Peter carefully. Peter had something in his hands, that he now tucked discretely into his pants. Victor must have passed him something.

They were so clearly a team. They could work together without uttering a single word. Even now as Victor took small steps towards Bryce, she could see the way that Peter was watching him, like the tether between them was being pulled with every step that Victor took. She watched as Peter stood where he was, unmoving, even as he itched to stay by Victor’s side, not for his own protection, but to protect Victor despite being injured.

Victor. Sweet, loving, humorous Victor had a boyfriend. One he was willing to put his life on the line to protect. And even though they had drifted apart, as Brianna got sucked into the life of a soldier, now general, in the army, she trusted that Victor would still put his life on the line to protect her even if he had lied to her.

So, when Victor’s knife went flying, she knew what she had to do. What Victor and Peter had planned to do. Victor yanked his blades out of the soil and ran, Peter close behind him.

Bryce took off after them, without so much as a glance at her. As annoyed as she was that he hadn’t even considered her a threat, she took advantage of his retreating figure.

Picking up Victor’s fallen bow and quiver, she took her aim and fired right into her brother’s leg.

This time she let her smile widen as he fell to the ground, an arrow piercing his thigh. Before he could look back to see who had shot the arrow she had disappeared into the crowd.

Chapter 13

VICTOR

Victor had to sheath one of his swords to keep his left shoulder free for Peter to lean on. Together they stumbled through the fight, trying their best not to trip over any dead soldiers while trying to avoid stray swords coming their way from any live ones.

With Victor and Peter moving together though they had little interference. Robusian soldiers kept clear of Victor, unsure in the midst of battle which twin he was. However, the Parvosi rebels took one glance at Victor and Peter together and knew immediately which brother he was. Their sighs of relief were almost audible as they made their way towards the forest.

Brianna had helped them to gain some invaluable time. He was sure, though, that her arrow wasn’t lethal. It would be easier to explain a stray arrow in the fray, but harder to explain one of their own arrows piercing through Bryce’s heart. He would be trying to find them, even if he was injured.

It took longer than Victor would have hoped, but eventually they managed to reach the forest’s edge. A few of the soldiers from Victor’s flank looked at him curiously as he disappeared behind the trees, but Victor didn’t give them a second glance. All he cared about was putting as much distance as possible between them and Bryce.

Away from the battle, the two of them were able to move more easily. However, it would also be easier for Bryce to track them. So, they kept moving at a steady pace.

The deeper into the forest they went, the denser it got. It would be impossible for them to figure their way out if they had not been planning their exit route for weeks. A few hundred meters into the forest and they found the sack that they had packed with essentials for their upcoming trip. Victor shouldered it, ignoring Peter’s offers, before they continued their journey.

They ran as fast as they dared, but as the minutes passed Victor began to worry about Peter’s wounds.

The farther they got from the battle the easier it was to hear Peter’s ragged breathing, and it only got worse over time. When Victor looked over at Peter, his usual bronze complexion had gone pale.

“You need a break,” Victor said, after he saw Peter trying to hide his wincing for a fourth time, “you are not going to make it if we continue at this pace.”

“We are not going to make it if we stop.”

“Please, just for one moment. We’ve covered enough distance for now,” Victor lied.

Peter sighed but stopped at the desperate tone in Victor’s voice. Victor knelt down beside him, pulling out one of their waterskins so that Peter could drink. Victor gave Peter enough time to catch his breath before he began to bandage his wounds using the supplies they had packed.

They had done their best to plan for every possible scenario and thus, Victor had everything he needed to care for Peter’s injuries. What they had not planned on, however, was Bryce’s involvement.

Victor worked as quickly as possible, while trying to avoid any further wincing on Peter’s part. Even though his head wound was not serious as Victor had initially thought, Peter might have a mild concussion. He would need to rest for a few days and his head would be fine.

What made Victor most nervous was the injury at his side. He did not think that any vital organs had been pierced, but the wound was still bleeding. Victor removed Peter’s remaining armor and undid the belt at his waist. With the belt gone, the wound began to bleed more heavily, so Victor worked as quickly as possible. He removed Peter’s tunic and then did his best to wrap the clean bandage tightly around his torso. They were almost out of bandages by the time Victor was satisfied with his work. Peter would still need to see a doctor, but Victor was hopeful that he would make it.

Victor had been so preoccupied with his task that he hadn’t noticed that Peter’s wincing had stopped. His heart dropped as he began shaking Peter.

Peter jolted awake and Victor sighed in relief.

“Peter, my love, you have to stay awake. I know it’s tempting, but do not let your eyes close.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Peter muttered, even as his eyes began to close.

Victor shook him awake again, “My love, we must get going.”

Victor was relieved when Peter opened his eyes again, but they seemed to widen in surprise. He squeezed Victor’s arm tightly as if in pain.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Victor asked, as he searched Victor’s body for the source of his pain. Was there an injury he missed?

But the reason was clear a second later, “I’m glad you managed to save him, brother, I was worried there’d be little left for me to play with.”

Victor reached for his sword and spun just in time to meet Bryce’s. It took everything Victor had to push Bryce back and away from Peter.

“You will die before you are even ten steps from him,” Victor said, a calm rage settling around him.

“Are you sure about that, Victor? We trained together our whole lives. We both know which one of us is better, and it’s not you.”

Bryce wanted to tease him. Taunt him. That’s what he did with his prey, but Bryce seemed to forget that Victor was with him all those years. He knew his tricks and he wouldn’t let Bryce’s words get to him.

Victor wasted no time. He lunged forward, but Bryce was ready and blocked his advance. It didn’t worry Victor though. He knew exactly what his brother was expecting from him. And what he wasn’t.

“You say you know everything about me brother and yet you seem to forget that you are not the only person I’ve trained with.”

This time he approached Bryce as if he were the ocean. He was calm and patient, but powerful in his movements until Bryce was in the middle of a storm and Victor was the wave that kept crashing into him without reprieve. Bryce’s eyes went wide with surprise. It was nothing he had ever encountered before. Something he was not expecting. He did his best to dodge and block Victor’s sword, while Victor pushed him back.

Victor knew that the way to defeat Bryce was to move quickly and to not hesitate in bringing his defeat. It was not Bryce’s rage or his physical strength that made him a good fighter, but his ability to adapt. To learn an opponent’s moves and adjust his defense accordingly. Victor just had to keep his moves unpredictable long enough to incapacitate Bryce.

It also helped that Bryce was slower than normal. He had tied a piece of cloth, probably ripped from someone else’s tunic, tightly around his thigh, most likely where Brianna’s arrow had pierced him. Victor used this to his benefit and attacked his right side most often so that he would have to bear more weight on his left. Victor hoped to tire him out quickly before the tide turned.

Bryce was a fast learner though. He began to adjust to this new fighting style, Peter’s fighting style. So now it was Victor’s time to change. He was no longer the ocean, but a dancer. For all the time that Victor had trained with Brianna, Bryce had not sparred with her once since she had joined the military. He had tried plenty of times when they were kids, but Victor was always there to stop him.

He engaged Bryce in an unwilling dance, weaving in and out with his sword. He was light on his feet, but constantly moving, following the music of the breeze whipping through the trees the way Brianna had taught him to do. He moved quickly while being fluid so that it seemed as though Bryce’s sword, swinging up to block Victor’s, was what he had planned to do all along.

Bryce growled in frustration, “You’ve resorted to fighting like a girl, huh?”

“Fighting like the best soldier I know, is how I will defeat you. It’s not my fault you’ve never tried to learn from her.”

“That might be true, but at least I’ll have the satisfaction of seeing your lover die before I do. It seems as though your efforts have failed.”

It only took one misstep for Bryce to gain the advantage. Victor landed badly on his right foot in his attempt to peer over at Peter and in the next moment he was being tackled by Bryce. Bryce pinned him to the ground, Bryce’s back now to Peter. Peter was blocked from Victor’s view, but he remembered what he saw. Peter with his eyes closed, breath shallow, and skin slowly draining of color. Bryce was telling the truth; Peter wasn’t going to make it.

Bryce laughed in Victor’s face. “You know, you almost had me, using your boyfriend’s tactics and Brianna’s tricks. But you failed, and you know why? Because you are weak. I know it and father knew it. He knew you would sympathize with those bastard rebels. That you would take pity on them instead of doing whatever you needed to do to make our nation the strongest nation on the continent.

“And you dragged me down with you. You made me weak and I let you. You have always tried to stop me from doing what I needed to do to reach my own victory. I should have known that you were too weak to do what was right. Well, my failure ends today,” he shouted, bringing the edge of his sword to Victor’s neck.

“I wanted to do this my way, with you screaming as I killed your lover, but I guess that’s not going to happen, is it?” he asked, with a mad gleam in his eye, “This is the last time that you will ever get in my way. Enjoy your time in hell. I’m sure your lover will be close behind you.”

Victor could feel the bite of Bryce’s sword at his neck. Feel the edge of the cool metal burn against his neck as it broke the skin. Tears streamed down Victor’s face and he had time only to mutter the words, “forgive me,” to his lover, hoping that Peter had passed peacefully. He had no doubt that once Bryce was finished with him, he would claim Peter as well if he could.    

Bryce only laughed at his brother’s words, thinking they were for him.

“Only the weak beg for forgiveness.”

Bryce gripped his sword tightly and Victor knew that this was it. He closed his eyes. The final moment of his life. There was nothing but sadness in his heart. He could only hope that he and Peter would find each other in the next life, a nicer one than the one Bryce wished upon them.

 One moment, Victor could feel Bryce’s sword penetrating deeper into his neck and the next he heard someone wheezing as if desperate for breath. Victor opened his eyes to see a pale Peter standing behind Bryce. Peter held the hilt of Victor’s knife, while the blade lay deep within Bryce’s neck.

Peter did not waste his time in yanking the blade back out. Dark blood spurted out of the wound and Bryce clutched at it in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.

Peter forced Bryce to the ground so that Victor could get up. Once at his side, Peter checked the wound under Victor’s chin. It was deeper than he would have liked, but not fatal. Peter had stopped Bryce just in time.

Bryce himself was at his final seconds of life. Victor moved to sit by his brother and Peter followed, taking Victor’s hand into his own.

Victor sat by his brother’s side in those last few moments. Bryce tried to form words but all that came out was a gurgle of blood.

“I’m sorry,” Victor said, with meaning. As much as he was relieved to be sitting there alive, with Peter by his side, he could not help but feel regret for his brother. Sad that Bryce had been unhappy for most of his life. That he had never known joy or love. Sorry that despite all of Victor’s attempts, he was always angry with the people in his life, up until the end. Bryce glared at Victor’s apology, trying to force his final words out without luck, before the light finally went out of his eyes. Victor could only hope that in death, Bryce would find peace.

Chapter 14

BRIANNA

One Week Later

Brianna had not seen or heard from either of her brothers since the battle. The battle they had lost. It was only the first of many and with the week they had, it was hard to say which way the war would go. The Parvosi rebels had surprised them. They were more prepared than any of them would have thought. But her people had the numbers and the money, although their resources were not as abundant as they once were.

For now, though, both sides would count their dead and mourn their losses.

At least that was what everyone else would do. With no word from either Bryce or Victor she could only guess at what had happened. Either Bryce had found and killed Victor and his lover, or the two had escaped. She hoped and prayed that the latter was true. However, whether Bryce was dead or not was still up in the air.

In an endeavor to find out, she had searched the forest for either of their bodies without luck. Now, she was writing a letter in a last-ditch attempt to reach them. She would send a message to every port she could think of telling them to notify her if anyone noticed a tall dark-haired man travelling with an injured foreigner.

Once the letter was sent, she should have taken a much-needed rest while she waited for the response. Her impatience had her itching to train, but instead she headed to the war room where she knew the Commander General would be working.

He was just as restless as she was. The Commander General was a tall thin man, bald but with a gray beard. He was pale as if he spent all of his time working in the dark room, but the sturdy set to his shoulders suggested that under his dark blue uniform, he had trained enough to take down anyone who tried to attack him.

“General Asher,” he said, solemnly, looking up from the papers strewn in front of him. There was a chair beside him, but he decided to stay standing as he worked. Brianna knew he held old reports on the rebels, probably trying to figure out how all their intelligence had been so wrong. It appeared that she was not the only one unwilling to take a break.

He put the reports down, though, to look at her. The Commander General, as well as several of the other generals, had been surprised when neither of her brothers had returned from battle. They were counting their dead, expecting to find their bodies, but Brianna knew that neither of them would be found. “Is there something I can do for you?”

Their usual disdain and condescension were gone, for how long she was not sure, and was now replaced by pity for her loss. Or her alleged loss. She would have to wait a few weeks to know. To see if a return letter reached her or not.

“There are raids still going on, yes? We’re still sending teams to the border?”

“Yes,” he responded, frowning in confusion. Whatever he was expecting, it certainly was not this.

“What will happen to Bryce’s team?” she asked, carefully.

“General Bryce Asher’s team will continue as soon as we can find a new general to lead them.” He paused to let her speak, guessing where the conversation was headed.

“I was wondering if I could lead that team. My brothers lead those raids. Kept the Parvosi rebels at bay and our borders safe,” she fed him the party line, the line that they had always given her. “It would be my greatest honor if I could continue on with their legacy. To lead Bryce’s team as we continue to keep our country safe.” She was laying it on thick, but she needed this position. Needed to be trusted enough to be included, so she could investigate the situation and learn more about Victor’s claims.

He was silent for a moment, thinking it over. Before the battle he would have been unlikely to agree. Even though they had given her the same title as her brothers they were still hesitant to give her the same responsibilities. As if she could not handle it.

As far as she knew, both of her brothers had been killed during the battle and between the three of them she was the one who managed to walk off the field alive. They had been impressed even as they pitied her.

Whether it was her apparent skills or his sympathy for her loss, he finally nodded. “Very well, you will take over General Asher’s duties. Go to General Scott and he will brief you on the mission.”

“Thank you, Commander General,” she said, bowing her head, but his attention was already back to the reports in front of him.

She could not help the smile that came to her face as she left the war room. The Commander General thought she had taken up Bryce’s cause. That she would be replacing her brother, taking over his duties, and continuing his work. And she would be, it just would not be that particular brother’s cause.

She planned to learn more about how her people kept stealing resources from their neighbors, but more than that she would do her best to track down the rebels. She would lend them her help and do her best to keep her brother’s legacy intact.

She would make her mother proud.

Epilogue

VICTOR

Three Weeks Later

Peter had told him about the beach. About how his feet would sink into the sand. How it would get caught in his hair and stick to his wet skin. How kids liked to play with it, making small homes for their toys.

Peter told him about the water. How along the shores it was so clear that you could see the sand getting washed away revealing pearly white shells. How it was a collage of blue, going from a clear aquamarine to an iridescent cerulean and a deep cobalt the farther you went from the beach.

Peter had even told him about the fish he would see if he swam far enough from the beach. The multicolored fish that darted out of the way whenever he moved too close to them. The yellow fish with black streaks running across them and the blue fish with green fins that seemed to dance through the water with the current. At the organisms at the bottom of the ocean floor that Peter promised him were alive even though they looked more like plants than real animals. And all the colors. Peter had told him, but he could never have imagined it.

What he had not expected was the look on Peter’s face when they had arrived. The joy when he first spotted land. When they had gotten close enough to the beach, Peter had forgotten the boat and jumped out to swim the rest of the way. Victor rowed to shore laughing with Peter at his euphoria. Tears started flowing when Peter finally saw his mother, then his father. The joy in his mother’s smile and the way his father walked with unwavering determination reminded Victor so much of Peter all he could do was watch in disbelief. Peter clutched at them, then at his brothers as they came running towards him. Peter and his two younger brothers, David and Lane, could have been triplets, if it weren’t for the difference in age, all of them dark, tall, and easy going as if nothing in the world could bring them down. They laughed freely as they hugged their older brother tightly.

It was almost too much for Victor to handle after everything that had happened. After his brother’s death. After leaving his sister without saying goodbye. Or at least a good bye in person. They had been skeptical when one of the ship’s captains had approached them the day before they had planned to leave, but he had no weapons on him and no malice on his face. Only a letter.

Once he saw the name Teddy written across the envelope, he tore it open, eager to read his sister’s words. She had sent the letter with hope that they had survived. She wanted to make sure they were safe. That Bryce was in fact gone. And she had promised him that she would continue his fight. It was more than he was prepared for. Tears rolled down his face and Peter kissed his cheek softly once he too had read it. It took everything Victor had to not return his letter to Brianna in person. To see her again. To help her now that they were on the same side. He should never have doubted her.

The memory threatened to pull him away from the present, but when he saw the blissful look of happiness on his lover’s face, he calmed. It was time for Brianna to go on her own journey. They would return to her someday, but for now they would spend some time with Peter’s family. He would manage through a steady correspondence with Brianna. It would take a few weeks to receive her letters and for her to receive his, but he would keep tabs on the situation. If she or the rebels ever needed him, he would be there.

For now, Peter was home, for the first time in years. His comfort and joy were enough to bring peace to Victor. Peter would heal and rest, and when the time was right the two of them would return to help end the war stronger than ever. As husbands if everything went right.

He waited until it was just the two of them. The family enjoyed the rest of their dinner, while Victor and Peter headed to the beach. It was a nightly ritual of theirs. They usually sat by the water, lounging in the sand as they whispered to one another.

Tonight though, Victor grasped Peter’s hand before he could sit.

“Swim with me?” he asked.

Peter nodded with a grin plastered to his face. He started peeling off his clothes and Victor did the same. They had been together for five years, but Victor still couldn’t help but watch in awe as more of Peter’s body became visible. His skin had darkened in the sun. What was once chocolate was now a deep brown, like mahogany. Elegant, yet sturdy, hard with muscle, but graceful as he stepped out of his pants.

Victor expected him to stop when he reached his undergarments, but tonight, much to Victor’s delight he removed them too.

Peter only winked at Victor before sinking into the still water, making ripples as he swam. Victor quickly followed suit wading into the warm water after Peter.

The moonlight shone down on them both, making Victor’s golden skin look paler than it was. It only added to the contrast between the two of them as Victor placed his hand in Peter’s.

He tugged Peter forward into his embrace, bringing him in for a sweet kiss.

“It took a few years, but it finally happened,” Peter murmured into his neck.

“What happened?” Victor asked, as he stroked Peter’s wet curls.

“You and me. In the water together. Naked as the day we were born.” Victor’s cheeks warmed even as he pressed a kiss to Peter’s temple. “We came pretty close the day we met. I could feel you undressing me with your eyes.”

“Me? You were the one who noticed my lack of underclothes. You could not wait to get me naked,” Victor joked.

“Hmm, I don’t seem to remember it happening quite like that.”

“It was exactly like that,” Victor said, pressing another kiss to him. “Of course, I ruined any potential for anything like that to happen.”

Peter pulled back at the dark tone in Victor’s voice.

“But look at us now.” He caressed Victor’s cheek with his hand, “It happened exactly as it was meant to, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Peter pulled Victor in for another kiss. “They like you, you know.” Peter said, in an attempt to change the subject.

“Hmm?” Victor said, as he started to make a trail of kisses from Peter’s collarbone to his shoulder, following the path the droplets made on his skin.

“My family, they really like you.”

“I’m glad,” Victor said, looking up at him. “I really like them. And I really love their son.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” Peter said, his voice laced in humor. “I thought you just really liked the way I use my sword.”

“I like that, too,” he said, pulling Peter’s hips closer.

“Pervert,” Peter said, but kissed him again, wrapping his arms around his neck. When Peter pulled back, he was surprised by the seriousness he saw on Victor’s face. “I was only joking, you know. Everyone knows I’m the pervert, here.”

Victor laughed but went silent again. Peter looked at him strangely, as if he could see the nervousness there beneath the surface. “I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t found you. I have no idea what path I would have taken or where I would be. I only know that I would not be the person I am today.”

“You would have come to the same path eventually. I know you. You just needed a push from someone, and I happened to be the one to do it.”

“I hope that’s true,” Victor said, smiling faintly.

“It is true,” Peter said, gripping him tightly.

“Nonetheless, I want you to know how much I appreciate you. For all that you’ve done, for all that we have accomplished. I could never imagine being with anyone else. And I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

“Neither do I,” Peter said, tilting his head forward so that their foreheads were touching.

“But I need you to know, that I am not done with the rebellion. My brother is gone. Everyone thinks that I’m gone. We can work in the shadows without anyone suspecting us. And now that my sister is involved…I know she can take care of herself, but I also know that she will need someone there with her to watch her back. I had you to look after me, but she has no one. She needs me there with her.”

Victor had planned to say more, but Peter was already nodding his head. “I have been thinking about it too, and you’re right. It was selfish of me to take us away from your only remaining family.”

“You could never be selfish,” Victor held Peter’s face in both of his hands. “You were only thinking of me. Of us. To take us away from my crazy brother and away from the violence. Don’t you every apologize for that. You are the most unselfish, kind, compassionate, and sarcastic person I have ever met.” Peter smiled at that. “And, if you would accept me, I would love to be your husband.”

Peter’s eyes widened, surprised at the turn in conversation. Victor could not tell if the gleam on his cheeks was from droplets of water that still clung to him or if there were tears running down Peter’s face.

“I would love that, too,” Peter said, clinging to Victor’s arms, “I accept.”

Victor brought him in for a fierce kiss. He could hear Peter laughing through his tears.

“You’ve made me a very happy man,” Victor said in between kisses.

“Victor?”

“Yes?” he said, with such joy that he almost missed the more serious tone of Peter’s voice.

“Before the end of summer, we will return to help your sister and the Parvosi rebels, I promise you.”

“Thank you,” Victor said again, clinging to his fiancé.

They held each other for a moment, feeling the tiny waves move around them, and basking in the light of the moon. They could not have asked for a better moment together.

Peter was the one to break the silence. “Do you realize that the next time we see your sister, we will be married,” he said, softly, a smile in his voice.

“Hmm, yes, married,” Victor said, as Peter wrapped his legs around his waist. Victor let them sink farther into the water before pressing another kiss onto Peter’s lips, “I like the sound of that.”

The End