Warlord Conquering (The Great Insurrection Book 3) by David Beers (best historical fiction books of all time txt) 📗

Veena didn't need to answer. They all knew the truth. The Ascendant might not have told them everything, but he had made that point extremely clear.

"Good. We're on the same page. Next, the Subversive over there? He isn't asleep. He may be acting like he is, and you've fallen for it because you're not trained in deception like I am. Hel nodded at him. "He's listening to everything we're saying. I'll give up the plan to satisfy you two idiots' curiosity. My plan, overall, is to make it to a portal. Where I go once I'm there is none of your concern. However, portals are spaced far apart, so it's going to take a bit of time to get to one."

She stretched her arms out and arched her back as if this whole thing was tiring her. She dropped them back into her lap before continuing, "That Subversive there is one of the few important ones in the whole movement. He's what we might call a 'valuable asset.' I'm betting he's valuable enough that the Titan will come for him. Plus, what else is he going to do? Wait there in that dreadnought for the Commonwealth to kill him? Not hardly. He's on the way right now, and if his AI is advanced, he'll be able to trace the dust particles our pod is dislocating. If he's smart, he'll figure out what I'm trying to do. Either way, he's coming. My plan, my Earth-donkeys, is to wait until he gets to the populated planet and then take his head."

She leaned forward and placed her elbows on her knees.

"That is the only fucking way any of us will get back to Earth." She looked down the pod at the Subversive. "You hear that, Thoreaux? If your AllMother somehow contacts you, let her know everything we're going to do."

The woman leaned back into her seat and resumed her former position.

Veena looked at her face quietly. Never before had she seen someone who had been beaten so harshly, not even in the Academy. Bones were sticking out in the wrong places, and the only reason she could speak as well as she did was that Kane had ended up needing something from her. Hel said she wanted Kane's head, but Veena wondered if that was true. She thought the woman might want more—a lot more. Maybe as much as the man's soul.

Twenty-five hours.

That was how much time Ares had to understand what he was walking into. The AI was telling him about the planet, and the population was huge, over a trillion people, and the physical size dwarfed Earth as well.

He had to do more, though, and he hoped Veena knew that as well. Hel was telling a half-truth. They couldn't return to Earth right now. Ares wasn't sure if they'd be able to return even if they'd killed Alistair. The Ascendant was not a man to forgive easily, and Ares and Veena had failed him multiple times. They'd sacrificed one dreadnought, probably two, a host of Titans, and most likely other assets Ares wasn't aware of. If they showed up with Alistair's head in a bag, they might soon find their own in the same bag.

How did Ares get out of that little situation?

His eyes were closed, his head leaning back like Hel's, yet he was simultaneously taking in all the information on the planet and thinking about what his father would do in this situation.

What lesson had he learned as a child that might be apt now? Because in this pod, hearing this AI recite a planet's history, Ares saw no way out. It seemed as if his death were certain.

That was unacceptable to him. He'd worked too hard and come too far to simply roll over. His father had given him enough lessons to last a lifetime. He only needed to find the one that fit.

His father had taught him the lesson, and it was a tough one for Ares to learn. He hadn't been Ares at the time, though he'd aged since the beating.

Romulus was fourteen, years away from starting the Academy. He once again ranked number one for his age group. He'd listened to his father, and Adrian was...”proud” wasn't the correct word. Neither was “happy,” and certainly not “content.”

He was waiting. His son was doing what was necessary, but Adrian knew it wasn't sufficient. The father’s eyes were always searching for a misstep because he knew his duty. He was the one who had to shape this young man into something the world couldn't destroy.

At fourteen, Romulus misstepped again.

The two of them went hunting twice a year, once in the fall and again in the spring. That fall, Romulus had asked if his friend could come, and Adrian had seen no harm in it. The young man was from good stock, and he didn't seem to be a bad influence on Romulus.

The three of them had traveled north, far from any major cities. They went for a week and stayed in one of Adrian's cabins. They would only eat if they could kill animals, and they’d only drink water they carried in buckets from the river that flowed half a kilometer from the cabin. For one week, twice a year, Adrian made sure his son was dependent on his wits and muscles to survive.

The new boy would do the same.

Adrian spoke to them both before they left. He'd already spoken to the boy's parents, laying out the same for them. If they didn't want their child to come, that was fine, but he felt they should know the truth of the matter.

"If you come, you will only eat what you kill. Not what I kill, but what you kill. Nor will I try to eat what you get for yourself. If you do not bring your pails of water up the hill, you will not drink. This week is relaxation, but it is also work. It is a different kind