Rebel Song Read online

  An angry grumble erupted from the crowd.

  “You can’t let those bastards get away with this!” A man shouted in a thick Northern brogue.

  “It’s unconstitutional!” A woman yelled out.

  The complaints flew through the room for a few minutes. Cable sat unmoved, taking it all in. He stared out at the crowd with blank eyes. Finally, he raised his hands to quite the crowd again.

  “It’s unconstitutional, yes. We all know this. But it’s not illegal—”

  “Taxes raised five points in the last year? How are we supposed to operate for any kind of profit at all?” Alec interrupted. “And for what purpose? To fund a greedy war? Where’s the legality in that?”

  The crowd hissed in agreement.

  “Please, let me finish,” Cable said. “I think it’s time we change up our efforts. We sit around complaining about the increase in taxes and the embargo on shipping. We argue about the constitutionality of the laws and the corruption of the King and council. But where does it get us?”

  “It’s time to fight back!” Alec chimed in again.

  Cable paused and stared at Alec.

  “I agree. But not with violence.”

  “When did you go soft?” Ben called out.

  “There is a difference between strategic and soft, Benton. What did the violence get our predecessors? The wrong end of a ranger’s baton is what,” Cable said.

  Rogan’s stomach clenched, his anger purring at the insinuation that their reckless violence was what got his father and uncle killed.

  “Henri never reserved his batons for the unruly and blood-thirsty back then; what makes you think he’ll be any different now?” Benton added.

  Cable looked both annoyed and surprised to hear his advocate contesting him. Ben and Rogan were his sworn loyal sidekicks, after all.

  “Well of course not, Ben. A lot of innocent people have died for our cause. But what I’m saying is that had the Cause not started a chain of bombings and attacks, it might not have been reciprocated so ferociously.”

  Benton smirked.

  “And you think we’ll just be able to reason with them? Hey Ballantyne, I was thinking it would be more fair if we don’t pay higher taxes. How about you elect honest men to the council and spread the wealth around.”

  The crowd snickered softly.

  “I don’t know Ben. Have you ever tried it?” Cable asked coolly.

  “Colt Elwood was unarmed when they crushed his skull in front of his brother and eight-year old nephew. And don’t forget his father,” Ben pointed to Rogan. “Theron thought like that. He thought peaceful protest and reason would get them further than anything. What did gracious rhetoric get them?”

  Rogan felt his insides burn.

  “Calm down, Ben,” Rogan touched his shoulder. “Cable’s just trying to limit the bloodshed.”

  Ben flicked his hand away.

  “It’s too late for that,” Ben said through gritted teeth.

  “I respect your opinions Ben, I really do. But you confuse vengeance with justice. I’m not here just to start another bloody hopeless street battle just to be annihilated by the royal army. I’m here because I think we can change things.” Cable paused and directed his attention back to the crowd. He stood even taller. “I don’t just want a war. I want a revolution.”

  The crowd erupted in a roar.

  After the speech, Cable approached the table where Rogan sat with Ben, Donal and Iris. From the way Iris’ cheeks flushed and her body tensed at his approach, Rogan wondered whether his suspicions about her romantic involvement with their stoic leader were true. Cable offered Iris a smile and friendly shoulder squeeze.

  “Quite the speech,” Rogan said.

  “Thanks,” Cable nodded. “I mean what I say.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” Ben sneered, still riled up from their public debate.

  “Do we need to take this somewhere else?” Cable asked. Ben narrowed his eyes for a moment but then shook his head. “Good. Look, Ben, you don’t have to agree with everything I say, but you do have to listen if you want to be part of this organization.”

  “Just don’t get us all killed,” Ben added with a smirk.

  “That’s my goal.”

  “You’re a bold man, Cable,” Donal said. “Just be careful what you wish for. Some roads are one way only.”

  Cable smiled and nodded.

  “I’ll remember that. Rogan, can I talk with you before you go?”

  Rogan glanced at his companions uneasily but nodded.

  “Sure. Let’s take a walk. I’ll see you guys later.”

  They left the cannery basement and slipped out behind the building where the shipping docks loomed. The night was crisp but the scents of fish and rotting garbage clung to the still air. He could hear the gentle lap of the bay water against the rickety wooden pier. Cable looked out at the water in silence.

  “So, what do you need?” Rogan asked.

  Cable turned and looked at him thoughtfully.

  “Sorry that stuff about your da came up.”

  Rogan shrugged.

  “It’s all right. I faced those ghosts a long time ago. Theron was a big part of our history. We can’t just forget it all happened.”

  “True. Not everyone has the mind to see that. He was a great leader. I really admired him. Wanted to be just like him. His death—it shattered us. We’re only now putting the pieces back together. And you’ve been integral in helping us do that. I hope you know that.”

  “Thanks. I’m just doing what I can to be a good soldier.”

  “You’re more than a soldier. You’re smart and rational. You don’t blurt out every thought that comes to mind and you don’t react to what’s said to you. Moreover, people actually listen to what you say. You’re not a soldier, Rogan, you’re a leader.”

  Rogan stared at Cable blankly, not sure what he was hearing.

  “That’s nice of you to say—”

  “I’m not being nice. I’m not a nice person really. What I am is a practical one. I’ve seen what’s out there and I know what we need to defeat it. When I was down in that hole in Suell, I realized I had found true evil. I mean the evil you hear about in a Temple Sunday school lecture—the evil that boils in the pits of Hell. And you don’t defeat evil by yelling the loudest. You have to outsmart it.” Cable looked back at the cannery building. “They need you to help lead them. I need you.”

  Rogan’s heart sped up and he felt a wave of dizziness come over him. He took a few breaths to steady himself.

  “Lead them? Cable, I…I’m not cut out for that. You’re the one who leads us, not me,” Rogan protested.

  “I know and I’m not stepping down. But I can’t do it alone. I need others who can rally this cause. Make it worth something.”

  All Rogan could think about was Elyra. What would Cable say about that? Would he still trust him so implicitly if he knew?

  “If you need a right hand, I think there are better choices, Cable. What about Ben, or Alec? Or Donal? Talk to someone who’s been to war.”

  “Donal? Sure, he has as many battle scars as any, but he’s old and conservative. He’s been a good mentor, but the times have changed. Ben is too much of a hothead and quick to fight, which tonight clearly demonstrated. Alec? Impulsive, angry and possibly insane. The one I need is you.”

  “Who’s going to follow Theron Elwood’s kid, Cable?”

  “Anyone who’s worth a damn. You were meant for this.”

  “I don’t know…” Rogan hesitated. Before he could finish his sentence, Cable touched his shoulder and looked him square in the eyes.

  “You can do this. I trust you.”

  After the meeting, Rogan couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wandered through the city streets surrounding the docks, thinking hard. The Cause was on edge, their patience and tolerance hanging by a thread. He could feel the blood boiling at the surface. How did Cable expect him to lead this? He didn’t know the first thing about leading anyone. He wan
ted to believe protests and political influence were enough to make a change, but he knew deep down they weren’t. Pantone and Ballantyne would never let the Cause have any voice. They would never give in to the demands of a group of farmers with rusty black market shotguns and axes. The Cause was spreading throughout the other counties and allegiances were forming, but the ties were too loose. There was no unity, no organization. They had to be careful whom they trusted with every breath—did Cable truly think they could bring it all together under one banner?

  He felt a desperate need to see her, stronger than any urge had been over the past few months. It came over him as though he were drowning and gasping for air. He had tried to forget her but sometimes the memory of her touch monopolized every thought. With all this talk of the end of the world and bringing down a kingdom, how could he not spend every moment thinking about her future in this? Would their success mean her demise? But what he wanted hardly mattered. The reality was still that she was Elyra Ballantyne and he was a hell-bound rebel.

  He pulled his bike around the final bend at the start of his driveway, then killed the engine to avoid waking anyone. He began walking it up the drive when he heard the soft murmur of voices near the house. He stopped short, then softened his steps, creeping along the path. It was rare for anyone to be up and about outside at such a late hour and he fingered his knife instinctively. He crept close enough to hear the voices clearly and ducked back behind a tree, wrapping his fingers around the handle of this blade, his heart warming up for a long sprint.

  “You put me in a dangerous position little harlot.” Benton’s husky voice came through the air.

  “Last I checked you put yourself in them,” Arianna responded in a voice laced with flirtation.

  Rogan relaxed as the threat disappeared but then turned his head to glare at them. Why were they outside talking at this hour? On a school night?

  “Ari, you’re a child.”

  Arianna reached up and pressed her finger to Ben’s lips with too much assertion for her age.

  Rogan’s pulse raced at the sight.

  “Age is just a number, right? Didn’t you say that once?”

  Even in the darkness Rogan could see the curiosity on Ben’s face as he stared down at Arianna. Ben pushed her finger away gently, but let his grip linger over her small hand. With his other hand, he touched the side of her check affectionately. Rogan’s insides bubbled as he watched Benton Hollister flirt with his baby sister.

  “Benton,” Rogan snapped. “Please unhand my little sister.”

  Both Benton and Arianna stiffened at Rogan’s voice and stepped away from each other.

  “Rogan,” Ben said casually. “I came by to talk to you.”

  “Well, I know there’s a resemblance but better check your eyes.”

  “C’mon now, don’t be so uptight. We were just talking.”

  Rogan glared down at Arianna, who stood uncomfortably in a pair of too-short cotton sleep shorts and a fitted tee-shirt. Her hair was in two stick-straight black pigtails.

  “Ari, go inside,” Rogan commanded. She began to protest but he snapped. “NOW.”

  She gave Benton one last yearning look and bit her lip before turning to scamper into the house. Rogan turned back to Benton with narrowed eyes. He batted him in the side of the head with just enough force to show his irritation.

  “What the hell is wrong with you? She’s a little girl Ben.”

  “Calm down. I wasn’t doing anything perverse. She’s just a lovesick kid trying out her hand at flirting.”

  “And it looked like you weren’t entirely opposed to giving her a few pointers.”

  “I’m not a complete idiot, Rogan. I know how old she is. Believe it or not, I try to not go around corrupting children. And if you’ll recall, I haven’t been short on late-night company lately.” Rogan sighed and rolled his eyes.

  “All right. Just stay away from her. You’ll break her damn heart.” Rogan pointed a finger firmly into Ben’s chest.

  “I’ll do my best to let her down gently, okay?”

  Rogan shook his head, smirking.

  “Damn her. She’s going to be the death of me.”

  “You’re not her da. You can’t control everything she does.”

  “You’re right, I’m not. But I’m the only one who’ll look out for her and I’ve done a crap job of it so far. She’s running around playing with knives and seducing dirty rebels twice her age.”

  “Hey, I’m not that old. And I bathe.”

  “Yeah, well who says you’re the only one?” Rogan knew he’d be lucky if he’d kept Arianna out of some rebel’s arms at all, but he’d hoped she’d be slightly older before she started running around. He knew she was pretty with her mother’s raven hair and bright green eyes, paired with their father’s sharp jaw and high cheekbones. And a damn stubborn wit. Having to worry about her was the last thing he needed right now.

  “So you came to see me?” Rogan said, bringing his mind off his sister.

  “Yeah. I need to talk to you about something.” Ben bit his fingernail.

  “Okay. Talk.”

  “I’m going to Cable with the intel from…from my source.”

  “Are you serious? We talked about this. Donal, he—”

  “I know. I know we said we’d keep it under wraps until Donal came up with a plan, but we can’t. You were there tonight. You know what’s coming. I know Donal’s trying to do the right thing, but he doesn’t have a plan and I don’t think he ever will. He’s an old soul who’s sick of fighting, even if it’s what has to be done. There’s a reason he’s not in charge anymore.”

  “But what if this just fuels the fire?”

  “If Cable really thinks he can lead a revolution, he needs to know what he’s up against. Yeah, the Cause is going to be furious, but they should be. This is beyond unfair taxes. This is treason. If Pantone is in bed with the firms, well…” he trailed off, not needing to finish the thought. Rogan thought about his conversation with Cable.

  “Anyway,” Ben continued. “I wanted to tell you first.”

  Rogan ran his fingers through his hair and sighed

  “Well, you’ll have my back on this, whichever way it goes.”

  “I know,” Ben placed his hand on Rogan’s shoulder. “Whatever happens out there, we’re in this together.”

  CHAPTER 16

  The next morning he decided that he had to see her, if for no other reason than to warn her, to prepare her. She deserved to know what was happening. Maybe she could even do something about it. He thought about waiting outside the library, but it was too risky. There were too many eyes these days that knew his face. The son of Theron Elwood no longer had the protective cloak of childhood. He wasn’t even sure she was still volunteering there. He hadn’t heard a thing from her in nearly three months, save reading a scandalous article about her being caught topless on the beach in one of the salacious tabloids. Lies.

  At first, he’d thought he might cease to exist unless he felt her lips on his again. His body had burned and ached for her. He heard her voice in every girl he passed and saw her reflection in every window. It drove him practically insane, but as the weeks rolled past, he had come to realize his fate, if not accept it. But things were different now. The world was about to fall apart and she was in the dark.

  He wasn’t sure how he was going to find her, but he had to try. It wasn’t a great plan—in fact it might be a very idiotic plan—but it was the only one he could come up with that morning at dawn as he stared blankly at the latest cases of Valley red. As usual, his employees didn’t think it strange that he would deliver a single case to the royal grand pantry and would do it by himself on his bike.

  He eased his motorbike up the road, carefully looking from side to side for prying eyes. He might be paranoid, but better that than dead. The palace towers stretched out like two stone arms reaching for the sky, which glowed like fire with impending sunrise. He’d been up to the public palace gates before, but for public ev
ents with the winery, not to try and sneak in under false pretenses. Yet he had to risk it—he didn’t have a choice. When he reached the corner of the palace gate, he turned into the maintenance entry and parked. He took a deep breath, did his best to quell his acrobatic nerves, and unhooked the crate of wine from the back rack. Hoisting the crate, he walked to the receiving gate and approached a youthful, skinny royal guard with uneasy eyes and rosy cheeks, wearing a loose-fitting green uniform—undoubtedly some nobleman’s son fresh out of the Royal Academy.

  “Morning,” Rogan greeted the guard.

  The guard looked at him suspiciously and tried to assert his authority.

  “Can I help you, boy?” The guard said, throwing back his shoulders.

  Rogan smirked, noting they were likely the same age.

  “I have a delivery of wine samples for…” he reached into his pocket, balancing the wine crate on one shoulder, and retrieved an order sheet. “For an Ada Harren.” He said a silent prayer that he was correctly remembering the name Elyra had mentioned a couple of times.

  The guard twisted his mouth, eyeing the single crate.

  “Ms. Harren does not typically make orders for the household, nor does the royal house order such small quantities of anything. Let me see that.” He yanked the order slip from Rogan’s hands and examined it, his eyes scanning each word.

  “And Ms. Harren placed this order herself?” Rogan shrugged.

  “Think so. My uncle took the order. I just do the heavy lifting.” Still balancing the heavy crate with one arm, he flashed his Elwood Vineyards identification badge. “The order slip said she was requesting samples for Her Highness’ dinner party next month. She ordered up some of our top vintages too. Must have good taste. And it sure is an honor for us to be able to serve.” Good or bad, the lie came easy.

  “I see. Wait right here.” The guard took the order slip and walked over to a heavy-set, older guard slouched over a railing, looking both annoyed and bored to be on gate duty. The young guard showed the slip to his superior, who barely glanced at it before swatting his hand away, shouting something along the lines of, “Don’t waste my time with this,” and pointed to an intercom radio by the gate. The young guard scuttled over to it and punched in a series of numbers. After a brief conversation with the party on the other line, he returned to Rogan and sighed dramatically.