Shad hefted one. “Stand back and watch this.”
Leith stepped to the side of the room. Shad cocked his arm back and tossed the knife. It flew, end over end, until it slammed into the shield. Leith’s eyebrows rose. The throw hadn’t been perfect. The knife hit the shield low and off-center, but even that much was impressive. “You’ve been practicing.”
Shad shrugged and picked up another knife. “After seeing what Vane could do with throwing knives, I didn’t want to be at that kind of disadvantage again.”
Leith pulled out one of his own knives, pinched the tip between his fingers, aimed at the shield, and whipped the knife forward. It spun, flashing, before it crashed next to the shield hilt first. “That’s the extent of my knife-throwing skills.”
Shad’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps it has something to do with my archery training. I’m used to figuring out distances and stuff like that. It took some tweaking, but I didn’t have to start from scratch.”
“I’d probably be hopeless at archery too if I tried it.” Leith shrugged and retrieved his knife. “About as hopeless as I am with a sword.”
Shad grinned, strode forward, and threw his knife at the shield. This time, the knife struck high and to the right. “So when are you going to start courting Renna?”
“What?” Leith paused with his knife half out of its sheath. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Shad drew another knife, stepped back, and threw again. The knife thunked into the shield’s center.
Leith grimaced and tossed his knife. It plunked against the wall and slid to the floor. “I’m still a Blade. I’m going to ride away from here soon, and there’s no guarantee I’ll come back.”
Shad drew another knife. “We’re living in risky times. I have no better chance of surviving than you do, and both Jolene and I know it. But it’s better to take the risk of being hurt together than avoid truly living. I’d rather have loved Jolene even a short time than not at all.”
“It’s different for you.” Leith paced as far away from Shad as he could in the confined chamber. Two steps and he reached the foot of the bed. Two steps the other way and he swerved around the head of the mountain lion rug. “You aren’t responsible for the death of Jolene’s father. I helped kill Renna’s parents. What kind of man helps kill a girl’s parents, then courts her?”
“Abel Lachlan didn’t seem to have a problem with the idea.”
Leith blinked at Shad. Had Shad seen them talking? “What gave you that impression? He didn’t give me his blessing, nor did I ask for it. He asked that I protect Renna and Brandi.”
“Exactly.” Shad smirked, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Another knife thunked into the shield. “If he’d had a problem with you being close to Renna, he would’ve warned you away. What do you think he meant by asking you to protect her?”
“I think it was a warning. A warning to protect her heart as well as her person.” Leith ground his teeth together. Heat flared in his chest. “I’m not about to break her heart.”
He’d seen the results of a broken heart. He’d watched it every day in his mother’s dark, pained eyes when she’d tried so hard to please his father, only to have him belittle her. Or worse, hit her. She’d given her heart to Orn Torren, and he’d done worse than break it. He’d ground it beneath his fist and drank it away to nothing until Leith had had no trouble believing she’d killed herself rather than face another day.
Leith wasn’t about to do that to Renna. Perhaps it’d be better to love her even for a day than not at all. But, Leith would rather not love her at all than see her heart broken even one moment.
12
Leith stabbed a shovel into the ground again. A shallow trench now extended in a large ring around Walden manor. A hump of dirt no bigger than a prairie dog mound rose next to the trench.
Next to him, Jamie heaved another shovelful from the ground and dumped it onto the pile.
After a glance around to make sure no one was in earshot, he laid a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “I’m going to leave tonight to return to Nalgar Castle.”
Jamie froze, a spark cringing across his eyes.
“You don’t have to come with me.” Leith knelt so he could look Jamie in the eye. “You can stay here and leave Walden with one of the refugee groups. I’ll tell Respen I was forced to kill you, and he won’t look for you.”
Jamie’s eyes flicked toward the town. Leith followed his gaze. Rows of makeshift canvas tents dotted the hillsides around Walden for the refugees from Clarbon, Keestone, and Duelstone. Keestone had fallen. Duelstone would crumble any day, if it hadn’t already. Only Uster remained before the entire army would swing north for Walden.
Jamie squared his shoulders. “I want to return to Nalgar Castle with you.”
Leith raised his eyebrows. “Why?”
Something flickered in Jamie’s eyes. “I want to help the Resistance.”
Leith searched Jamie’s face. He couldn’t see any deception, but what if Jamie had been a spy for Respen all along? When they returned, he’d report Leith to the king.
But if he was telling the truth, then Jamie was the bravest thirteen-year-old Leith had ever met. And Leith couldn’t ignore that bravery if it was real.
“All right. But first sign of trouble, and you get yourself out of there.”
Jamie nodded, but that did nothing to ease the knot in Leith’s gut. If Leith slipped up, he’d get both himself and Jamie killed.
Renna twisted her fingers through her skirt. The cotton scraped against her fingers.
Across the room, Lord Alistair gave Leith a few more instructions before shaking his hand. Brandi chattered to Jamie as if trying to stuff his ears with enough words to last for however long he’d be gone.
Shad slapped Leith on the back. They exchanged a few words too low for Renna to hear.
Then Leith stood in front of her. She couldn’t breathe. Would she ever see him again? He was leaving for Nalgar Castle. In a few days, she’d leave for the Resistance hideout, never to return until Respen was defeated. If he ever was.
She tipped forward onto her toes. When he’d left last time, she’d hugged him. And she hadn’t been able to forget the feel of his strong shoulders.
Perhaps she’d better not hug him this time.
“Renna.” Leith’s deep, green eyes met hers.
Her heart bumped in her throat. What was he about to say?
“Stay safe.”
Her breath whooshed as her heart thumped back into her chest. “You too.”
No more words would come. But they weren’t needed. Brandi was there. She hugged Leith so tightly Leith winced. “Don’t break my ribs. I’d have a hard time explaining that to Respen.”
Brandi grinned, but the grin only lasted seconds. “Take care of Blizzard.”
“I will.” Leith hugged Brandi back.
Renna ducked her head and focused on her fingers, which were strangling the life from her skirt. When had it become so natural to see Leith hug Brandi? As if he was already a part of her family in some way. Though what was he, exactly? Brandi’s brother, but what did Renna feel about him? Brother didn’t fit.
Leith gathered Jamie, and the next moment, they slipped out the window.
Renna’s knees buckled. She stumbled backwards into one of the chairs in front of Lord Alistair’s desk. Would she ever see him again?
And why did that hurt so much?
13
Riding through Nalgar Castle’s gates was like riding into the gates of darkness itself. Leith choked on the stale air that clung to the castle. The flags above the battlemented towers hung limp while heat waves danced over the cobblestones.
He swiped at his hair and grimaced at the slick, wet texture of the strands. His black shirt glued to his back and chest. At this point, the dank coolness inside the thick, stone walls of the Blades’ Tower sounded almost welcome.
He glanced at Jamie. Jamie stared straight ahead, his jaw tight. Something burned in his eyes, sending a pang throug
h Leith’s stomach. What was Jamie planning?
Halting in front of the stables, Leith dismounted and handed Blizzard’s reins to a stableboy. He couldn’t figure out Jamie’s problem now. He had to be the First Blade, not Daniel, and trainees were too below a First Blade to notice outside of training sessions.
Leith strode into the passageway connecting the two courtyards and over the wooden bridge that led to the Blades’ Tower. At this time of summer, the sun had reduced the moat to a dry ditch with a patchwork of cracks in the bottom.
On the grass strip between the Tower and the moat, Twelfth Blade Altin drilled the remaining five trainees in their basic knife-fighting skills. As Leith passed, Altin nodded before turning back to the drills.
Stepping into the Tower, the stone-cooled air swiped cold fingers down Leith’s back. His sweaty skin prickled.
A servant scrubbed a table in the main floor common room, panting, as if he’d just run up and down several flights of stairs. Leith bit his cheek to stop his frown. The servant had probably done exactly that the moment Leith had been spotted entering the castle.
As First Blade, Leith couldn’t feel pity. He couldn’t even acknowledge the servant. He brushed past him and headed up the stairs. His calves burned by the time he reached his room on the fourth floor of the tower.
He tried not to shiver as he crossed the threshold, as if Harrison Vane’s ghost still lingered in the shadows carved in the cracks in the stones.
He hung his saddlebags on a hook and glanced around the room. His blankets lay undisturbed on the bed. A lamp already glowed on the small table, its flicker struggling to penetrate the gloom. Washing up at the small basin and pitcher of water the servant had left for him, Leith changed into fresh, black clothes. Time to make his report to King Respen.
Trudging down the four flights of stairs, Leith strode out the tower and across the wooden bridge once again. Instead of heading back to the cobblestone courtyard, he turned and strode up a set of stone stairs that led to King Respen’s chambers.
Leith knocked on the carved oak door that led to the king’s apartments. A curt reply ordered him to enter. He lifted the latch and stepped inside.
The plush burgundy rugs muffled his footsteps. Large, arched windows overlooked the cobblestone courtyard to his right. Padded chairs occupied a circle around the fireplace at the far end of the room, pillows clustered against the armrests in case the stuffing was not plush enough for the occupant. Wood paneling covered the walls, hiding the stone beneath a layer of oak.
Respen sat at a desk below one of the windows overlooking the cobbled courtyard. A clerk stood at his elbow, scribbling notes on a piece of paper. Leith waited while Respen finished up his business.
After dictating a few more notes, Respen waved his hand. The clerk bowed and scurried past Leith without looking at him. Poor fellow. What had he done to get the job of liaison between the king and the administrative officials that lived and worked in the office wing of Nalgar Castle?
“Report.” Respen flicked his hand at the rug next to the desk.
Leith knelt on the rug, his knees sliding into the indents pressed into the rug from the time the former First Blade had spent on his knees reporting to his king. As Leith met Respen’s eyes, a jolt surged down his back.
“Harrison Vane isn’t hiding in Walden Manor. I was able to search the manor and didn’t see him.” That much of his report was true. Vane wasn’t in Walden Manor. He was buried next to it. “The Resistance has a hideout deep in the Sheered Rock Hills, a place they call Eagle Heights.”
Respen stroked the tip of his pointed, black beard. “That’s where he is. Even if my Blades could find it, he’d kill them before they could report to me. Better to lure him out of his hiding place.”
“Most likely, my king.” Leith allowed himself only a brief pause. “I was able to train with Walden’s guards. While Lord Alistair has a core of trained soldiers, most of his men are farmers and townsfolk with little training or fighting experience. Their numbers continue to grow.”
Even though Lord Alistair had given his permission, Leith’s chest ached as if he’d betrayed the Resistance by giving King Respen even that much information.
Respen lowered his hand back to the arm of his chair. “Well done, my First Blade. How did your experiment with the young trainee progress?”
“He was an asset to me when I sneaked into Sierra before the attack and again at Walden where his youth made others less wary around him.”
“Good. When do you think he will be ready?”
Never, but Leith couldn’t say that. “Soon.”
Respen nodded, his dark eyes focused on the window overlooking the courtyard. “Very well. Report to me when the rest of my Blades arrive.”
“Yes, my king.” Leith pounded his clenched fist over his heart in a salute, stood, and strode out the door and down the stairs.
At the bottom of the stairs, he leaned against the wall. His hands were shaking. The lies. The half truths. Each word weighed against the other stories he’d already spun.
How much longer could he manage without slipping?
Leith cracked open the Tower door and settled down to wait. From this vantage point, he could see the door to Jamie’s room in the outer wall next to the moat and the bridge to the rest of the castle.
Maybe that look in Jamie’s eye had been nothing but determination. Perhaps he was seeing phantoms in the dark. But Leith couldn’t take the chance. If Jamie had something up his sleeve, Leith would find it.
Several hours into the night, a dark figure slipped from Jamie’s room. The half moon provided enough light for Leith to make out the silhouette, though he couldn’t see the face.
What was Jamie doing? If he’d planned to betray Leith and the Resistance, then he had a lot of guts to wake Respen to make his report. Unless Respen knew about this plan and was awake and waiting.
Jamie tiptoed toward the bridge, his steps a mere crinkle in the yellowed grass. Leith tensed, one hand on the door, the other flexing at his side. He couldn’t let Jamie step onto the bridge. If Leith tried to grab the boy there, both of them would be silhouetted and the creaking wood would warn Jamie of Leith’s presence. Too early, and Jamie would notice the Tower door opening.
Jamie glanced toward the door, but his gaze swept past without pausing. He turned and reached one foot for the bridge.
Leith swung the door open, stepped forward, and wrapped a hand over Jamie’s mouth. Before Jamie could do more than jump, Leith pinned Jamie’s arms to his sides and dragged him into the Tower.
Leith shoved him into a chair he could only dimly see in the moonlight filtering through the open door. “Stay.”
When Jamie didn’t move, Leith lit a lamp, set it on the table, and closed the outer door so none of the other trainees would overhear them should they wake. Only Altin remained in the Tower, and his room was on the third floor. When Leith had tiptoed past, he’d heard the steady sound of Altin’s breathing.
Leith stalked back to Jamie and glared at him. “What were you doing?”
Jamie hunched in the chair and shook his head.
Heat flared in Leith’s chest, though ice streaked down his back. “Look at me. What were you planning to do? Betray the Resistance?”
Jamie’s head snapped up, his blue eyes wide. “No! I’d never do that.”
Leith searched Jamie’s face and eyes. He couldn’t see anything but sincerity, but that didn’t mean anything. Respen couldn’t see Leith’s lies in his eyes either. “Then what were you doing?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Jamie’s jaw tensed.
“Yes, it does.” Leith fought the rush of cold that poured through his chest. What was he willing to do if Jamie proved untrustworthy? To protect Renna, was he willing to kill Jamie if necessary? “Can I really trust you?”
“Yes.” Jamie clenched his fists. “I wouldn’t betray the Resistance.”
“Then prove it. What were you doing?” Leith planted his hands on the table and leaned
towards Jamie. What possible motive could Jamie have for sneaking out if it wasn’t to betray the Resistance?
“I…” Jamie gnawed on his bottom lip, swallowed, and met Leith’s gaze. “I was going to kill King Respen.”
“Respen has enough tricks up his sleeve to keep the former First Blade in line. He’d be able to kill you in a heartbeat, surprised or no.” Leith gaped at Jamie. “What put the notion in your head to kill Respen?”
“He killed my parents.”
That night sitting in the tall grass outside Sierra filtered through Leith’s mind. I hoped I’d get good enough to…to escape.
But that had been a lie. Jamie had trained to kill Respen. He’d returned from Walden to kill Respen.
Leith perched on the table and crossed his arms. “If you were so determined, why did you refuse to kill earlier? You could’ve become a Blade and gained more freedom of movement.”
Jamie kicked at a tableleg. “Respen is the only one I want to kill.”
Leith bowed his head. Hadn’t he felt that same kind of anger? He’d hated his father enough to contemplate killing him when he grew big enough. “Jamie, your parents wouldn’t want you to kill Respen for revenge. It isn’t right.”
“I know, but…” Jamie clenched his fingers. “It isn’t right that Respen isn’t punished for what he did. And he keeps on hurting people. What if he hurts Brandi? She’s my friend.”
So that’s what triggered Jamie to make his move now. “I know. It isn’t right. That’s why I’m doing my best to help the Resistance fight him.”
“How is fighting him different from getting revenge?” Jamie’s hands squeezed so tightly his knuckles whitened.
How was it different? Was one just as much a rebellion and distrust of God as the other? Some in Acktar seemed to think so. Lord Hector Emilin had died because he’d refused to fight Respen. “The motive is different. Revenge is done out of hatred, but resistance is done to stand up to evil. And the method is different. Revenge takes the fight to Respen while resistance only counters whatever move Respen makes. It’s defensive, not offensive.”
Deny (The Blades of Acktar Book 2) Page 8