Call to Arms (The Girl In The Arena Book 1) Read Free Page B

wanted her to do as she had been told, but why?
    She saw why. The werebane grew lush and thick under a tree. To people in the city it was foreign, out in the Outside it was only seen in the deep woods. Most had no idea of what it was or what it could do. So, they wanted her to cook for them, did they?
    Her stomach trembled. She had never killed anyone although she had seen death up close more times than she liked to remember. She knelt on the ground and began to dig a pit for the fire. Someone kicked her, a hard blow to the ribs. Through the pain she heard Praxis say, “Never kick a dog when it’s down, the gods do not approve,” and the laughter that followed.
    Her vision lured. The wind froze her hands and body. Her fingers shook as she started the fire and she wanted to warm himself at it, but she was not allowed to for long. There were small bags of foodstuffs tossed down at her knees as well as a battered cooking pot. She opened the bags to see dried meat and grain, a small packet of salt and loaves of hard bread. The worst things were the now cold rabbits that had been taken from Warrin’s camp.
    She tore the meat from the bones, broke the bones and set them in the water that she poured from a bag into the pot. The pot began to boil and she added grain and salt, wincing at the waste, and hunks of the rabbit—leaving only a tiny bit of it in reserve.
    The werebane was easy to gather, and nobody even noticed. The soldiers were too busy laughing and congratulating themselves for having captured Liam. Liam was the Outlaw that everyone wanted to capture. He was famous, and the soldiers were sure they were going to be richly rewarded upon their arrival back in the city the next day.
    Reena made a big show of sampling the savory smelling stew and got exactly the results she wanted. One of the men roared in anger and kicked her, knocking her nearly into the fire.
    “She touched our food!”
    Praxis said, “Of course she did. She is cooking it. Be glad she tasted it, that keeps you from having to worry if she poisoned you.”
    Reena could not look up. She was afraid her face would betray her. Her breath stuck in her throat and her nerves tightened. Did he know? Had he seen her gather the werebane? If he had, why had he not warned the others? Had he seen and just thought she was adding something to the pot because she liked the taste?
    The men gathered their eating utensils and took the pot from the fire, letting it cool as they finished making camp. Reena looked up to see the soldier who had captured her father looking at her with a speculative gleam in his eyes that she did not like. She looked away.
    “What do you think she would fetch in the auction?”
    Praxis answered, “I’m sure she would spark a bidding war Nero. Why?”
    Nero, that was the name of the man who had humiliated her father. She hoped he ate from the pot first. “Because I hate to see that kind of sweet flesh go to waste. Perhaps we could convince the Governor to allow us to sell her rather than execute her.”
    Praxis said, “That will never happen and you know it.”
    Nero snorted. “Maybe not but it would be worth a try.”
    The soldiers sat near the fire. Their faces leaned close over the pot. Reena’s blood pounded in her ears. She could not watch. They were people, regardless of what they also were and she was about to murder them all. She stared at the banked-down fire, seeking some sort of solace from it, but there was none.
    One of the soldiers grunted and she heard the sounds of chewing and swallowing. A single tear slid down her cheek but she dashed it away. A long gurgle and rattle sounded out and one of the soldiers gasped then another choked.
    “What did she do?”
    Reena rolled to one side, already anticipating the blade that swung for her head. The wind whistled past her cheek, the blade sang loudly but she kept her head, literally. Nero stood over her, his sword still raised. He had been well trained, but he was still just a man