Dare (The Blades of Acktar Book 1)

by Tricia Mingerink

  Leith’s stomach clenched. Who was he to dare even this much resistance to King Respen? King Respen was the absolute ruler of Acktar. With a word, he could send his Blades anywhere he chose, kill anyone he desired.

  If—most likely when—he learned of Leith’s omission of detail, he’d punish Leith like he’d punished Zed. Leith hugged his arms to his body. He didn’t have the courage. He wasn’t like Daniel in Brandi’s stories. He couldn’t stand alone against a king’s wrath.

  But Daniel didn’t stand alone. Leith turned the thought over in his mind as if to learn its taste before he swallowed. That was his secret. That was the secret that put the smirk on Brandi’s face and stiffened Renna’s spine.

  They were not alone.

  He couldn’t pray to their God for himself. He was the enemy. But their God might help him for their sakes.

  Leith checked the lock on the door and inspected the stones in the walls that separated his room from the Second and Fourth Blades’.

  When he was satisfied his room was secure, he knelt on the floor. How did Renna and Brandi go about praying? He had to get this right. God had enough reasons to ignore him already.

  Leith clasped his hands and closed his eyes. “I know I’m not worthy to be heard. I have blood on my hands. But please hear me for the sake of Renna and Brandi. I know they are loved. Give me the words tomorrow to shield them from King Respen.”

  He paused. What word did they use to end their prayers? He mumbled something that sounded similar and opened his eyes. The room was still dark, the one candle striving to clear a small section of light around his bed.

  But he felt a little braver.

  13

  When Leith woke, he felt like someone stirred his stomach with a soup spoon. He skipped the dry toast the Blades were given for breakfast.

  A few minutes before eight in the morning, he climbed the staircase to the fifth floor of the Tower and filed into the meeting room with the rest of the Blades.

  Two candles, set at intervals along the dark table, provided meager light in the circular room. At the foot of the table, a form, barely recognizable as Zed, writhed and moaned, tugging at the chains that held him against the wall. His shirtless torso dribbled blood across swollen bruises and burns.

  Leith turned his face away and hung his weapons from his peg along the wall. He slipped into his seat, second from the head of the table on the right side.

  Across from him, the Fourth Blade claimed his seat while the First and Fifth Blades sat on either side of him. Two seats, one at the end of the table and one near the middle, remained empty.

  At precisely eight, King Respen swept into the room. Leith’s stomach dropped into his toes as he rose to his feet with the other Blades in a concerted movement. Could he fool King Respen?

  The king stood in front of his throne at the head of the table with his back to the chimney. He fisted his right hand and clasped it over his chest. “My Blades.” King Respen’s voice rumbled in deep tone of thunder over the mountains.

  The sound of fists thumping against chests reverberated around the room, but Leith’s fist clumped off-rhythm. “My king.”

  The king reclined on his throne. His sword and daggers clunked against the armrests. As Leith sat with the rest of the Blades, invisible shackles dragged on his wrists.

  King Respen was the only one allowed to wear weapons at this meeting. Supposedly, it was to show that the Blades were a brotherhood so united and dedicated to each other that this was the only place they could leave their weapons behind.

  But what if the truth was more sinister? Having weapons while the Blades were unarmed gave King Respen control over his Blades. Renna had been right all along. The Blades weren’t honored servants. They were all slaves.

  Leith fought to keep his face blank. He’d be chained along the wall like Zed if King Respen noticed even a flicker of his current thoughts on his face.

  “The Blades have been dishonored.” The king’s voice flowed through the darkness like midnight clouds scudding across the sky.

  Leith’s skin prickled. Did King Respen know? Had he heard rumors? Had someone seen him leave Stetterly Manor?

  King Respen tipped his hand towards the foot of the table. “The dishonored one awaits his punishment.”

  The figure along the wall gave a piteous moan. Leith hid his shaking hand by gripping the seat of his chair. The king would order one of his Blades to carry out his judgment on Zed.

  Please not me. Without meaning to, the thought came out as a prayer.

  “Fourth Blade Craven, restore the honor of the Blades.”

  Leith sagged against the back of his chair. King Respen hadn’t picked him. Almost as if his prayer had been answered…but that was impossible. God wouldn’t hear someone like him.

  The Fourth Blade stood and bowed before the king. King Respen handed him a knife. Gripping the knife, the Blade strode to the foot of the table. Leith couldn’t look away. He was a Blade. He was supposed to have the stomach for killing.

  The Fourth Blade halted in front of the prisoner chained to the wall and rested his knife against his neck. Zed whimpered. His face hard, the Fourth Blade dragged the knife across Zed’s throat.

  Leith flinched at the choking sound Zed made as he died. With long, unaffected strides, the Fourth Blade returned the knife to the king and regained his seat.

  Leith remained motionless and struggled to remain expressionless. Out. He had to get out. But the only way out was to die the way Zed had a few moments ago.

  “Twentieth Blade Beeson.”

  The Twentieth Blade slid to his feet, strode towards the head of the table, and knelt before King Respen. He clasped his fist across his chest as he bowed. “My king.”

  “Your report?” King Respen’s voice rolled across the table.

  The Twentieth Blade raised his head and met the king’s eyes. “I accompanied the First and Second Blades to the foot of the Ramparts. The Second Blade and I waited outside the Waste in case Burin doubled back while the First Blade went into the Waste after him. When the First Blade returned from the Waste with Burin, we helped escort the prisoner.”

  Leith drew in a deep breath to remain calm. He could do this. He had to do this.

  King Respen remained still and silent for a long minute, the fingers of his left hand tapping a slow rhythm on the armrest. The tapping stopped as he leaned forward and drew his knife. “You have done well, my Twentieth Blade.”

  The Twentieth Blade pulled up the black fabric of his right sleeve. He jumped only a fraction as King Respen slashed the knife across his arm below the other three marks already clustered there.

  The Twentieth Blade thumped his fist on his chest one last time, rose to his feet, and strode back to his seat. Once he was seated, King Respen’s dark brown eyes swiveled to the next Blade. “Nineteenth Blade Altin.”

  The fifteen-year-old Blade slid to his feet. Leith noted the tremble to his hands and the shake to his stride. Altin knelt in front of King Respen. “My king.”

  “Your report?”

  “I rode into the Sheered Rock Hills above Walden looking for signs of recent travel. The blizzard snowed me into a ravine for a week before I could get my horse out. I searched for the next three weeks, but I couldn’t find any signs of travel.”

  “None? In three weeks?” The king’s tone deepened to a chilled rumble.

  Chills scurried across Leith’s skin. If King Respen was angry over this failure, one that Altin had no control over, what would he think when Leith had little information to offer? It wouldn’t matter that he’d been wounded. He was the Third Blade. He was expected to return with information regardless. Worse, Leith had information. He planned to hide it.

  Altin hunched before the king. “None.”

  King Respen leaned forward until his face was only inches from the Blade’s. “You have failed, my Nineteenth Blade. Do not let it happen again.”

  Altin swallowed and pushed his left sleeve up to his shoulder. A single white s
car marked the top of his shoulder. The king slashed his knife across the Blade’s arm below the scar. Blood dribbled down his bicep. One more mark, and he’d die.

  Leith gripped his chair tighter as Altin hurried back to his chair. He’d been there the day Altin became a Blade and had seen the look in the boy’s eyes as he stared down at his first kill, the blood dripping from his knife. Altin shouldn’t be a Blade. He shouldn’t have to kill to stay alive.

  “Twelfth Blade Daas.”

  Leith shifted. He’d missed several reports because of his preoccupation. He scrabbled at whatever courage he possessed. His tongue cracked as every bit of moisture fled his mouth. If only he had even a measure of Daniel’s courage.

  “Sixth Blade Hamish.”

  Martyn slid to his feet, crossed the space in three strides, and knelt in front of the king. “My king.”

  “What do you have to report?”

  “I watched the town of Sierra. A number of riders came to Sierra from the direction of Walden. I managed to search one rider’s saddlebags but didn’t find anything. If they carried any messages, they kept the messages on their person. Because of the snow, I wasn’t able to get close enough to the manor to search it.”

  Leith had seen one of those messages. He even knew how to translate it. Yet he couldn’t breathe a word about it without putting Renna and her family in danger.

  “You found possible evidence of Resistance activity as ordered.” King Respen picked up his knife. “You have done well, my Sixth Blade.”

  After the king sliced Martyn’s successful mark, Martyn returned to his seat. Leith slowly scrubbed his palms against his trousers.

  Two more reports.

  One more report.

  “Third Blade Torren.” King Respen's voice shuddered through the shadows.

  Leith stood. He needed to be cold to bluff his way through this report. He knelt at the king’s side and bowed his head. “My king.”

  “What do you have to report?” King Respen’s deep voice shivered across the beads of sweat gathering between his shoulder blades.

  Leith resisted the urge to take a deep breath. He lifted his head and met King Respen’s gaze. “Twenty-Second Blade Chimb and I arrived in Stetterly the night the blizzard started. We took temporary shelter in a woodshed, and I sent Chimb into the town to gather information and scout a better place to wait out the storm. When he returned, he brought a girl with him.”

  “A girl?” King Respen leaned back in his throne, stroking his beard into a stiffer point.

  “Yes. The daughter of Stetterly’s sheriff, as I learned later.” Leith didn’t break eye contact. He couldn’t deviate from his normal rhythm or the king would sense his hesitation. “I ordered Chimb to return her before she was missed, but before he could, the sheriff and his men discovered us. Chimb was shot and killed. I took an arrow to the stomach, but got to my horse in time to escape.”

  King Respen’s eyes narrowed, but his fingers continued stroking his beard.

  “I rode into the blizzard. My horse took me far out of town until I thought the blizzard or my wound would claim me before I found shelter. At last, I spotted the dark shape of a building. I nudged my horse towards it and fell off on the doorstep.”

  The king leaned forward.

  Leith paused a heartbeat. Time to do something he’d never dared before. Hide information from King Respen. “I passed out. I spent a week delirious with fever and hovering near death. When I finally awoke, I discovered I’d been rescued by an old man named Daniel.”

  Leith resisted the smile that tugged his mouth. “He had enough healing skills to remove the arrow and close my wound. I was very weak and couldn’t get out of bed for several more days. I spent another week and a half with him before I returned here.”

  “Show me your wound.” King Respen motioned with his hand.

  Leith raised his shirt, revealing the pink scar on the left side of his stomach. King Respen’s gaze raked across his skin like a finger with a long, sharpened fingernail. With a nod, the king signaled he’d satisfactorily assessed that Leith’s wound matched his story. Leith released his shirt, nearly letting out a sigh of relief along with it.

  “Your mission was to study the rumored unrest in Stetterly. Did you accomplish this?”

  Leith met King Respen’s eyes once again. “I failed to gather much information due to my injury. The fact that the Twenty-Second Blade and I were attacked points to a growing boldness among those living in the countryside. The sheriff actively hunted me, even though he knew I was a Blade.”

  He suppressed the guilt heating his chest. The sheriff had hunted him too openly. Leith couldn’t hide that from the king. Better to betray the sheriff and save Renna and Brandi.

  “They are emboldened.” King Respen drummed his fingers on the armrest. “They do not fear my Blades as they once did. Do you think the attack you suffered could have been a trap?”

  Leith turned the memory over in his mind. The girl’s kidnapping had been a reckless impulse, and the sheriff never would’ve purposely placed his daughter in a tavern. But, it’d be easy to plant suspicion of something more in the king’s mind, something that would take his attention away from Stetterly.

  “The Twenty-Second Blade was impulsive. If the town knew ahead of time that we were going to be there, it’s possible they could’ve put the girl in the tavern as a means to trap us.”

  The king’s dark eyes sharpened. He didn’t say the words out loud, but Leith could see the suspicion growing in his mind. The only way for Stetterly to know the Blades’ movements ahead of time would be if they had a spy among the Blades. As the one caught in the ambush in Stetterly and reporting the possible existence of a spy, King Respen wouldn’t suspect Leith.

  King Respen picked up his knife, the tip stained red with the marks he’d already given that Meeting. “In spite of your injury, you have done well, my Third Blade.”

  A thrill zimmed through Leith’s stomach, but he kept his expression blank. He pulled up his right sleeve. The king sliced the knife across Leith’s arm, drawing a line of blood. He should be proud. Thirty-five marks and no failures.

  Leith slid into his seat before anyone noticed his shaking. The warmth of success soured. Had he done enough to protect Renna, Brandi, and their family? If King Respen scrutinized the sheriff, would he notice his connection with Lachlan?

  The Second Blade returned to his seat across the table. Leith clenched his fists. He’d missed yet another report.

  “First Blade Vane.”

  Vane rose to his feet, glided the single stride that separated his chair from the king’s, and knelt. “My king.”

  King Respen waved for him to make his report. Chills danced across Leith’s skin. Vane didn’t have to prove his success to King Respen. His proof hung from the chains at the far end of the room, dripping blood onto the floor.

  Vane cocked his head and met the king’s eyes. “I tracked Burin into the Waste. I caught him a day’s journey in.”

  A day’s journey into the Waste. Thirst tightened Leith’s throat. The Waste stretched into a dead zone of sand and rock. From the jagged cliffs known as the Ramparts to the far eastern side, no known water source provided relief from the heat. A few Blades had run into their depths to avoid the First Blade. None ever succeeded.

  “You have done well, my First Blade.”

  Vane’s mouth curled into a smile as King Respen slashed his thirty-ninth successful mark across his arm above his elbow. Vane slipped into his chair.

  Leith tensed. Where would he be sent now?

  King Respen leaned back in his chair. “First Blade Vane, you will go to Stetterly to investigate the trouble there.”

  Leith flinched before he caught himself. Every eye around the table swiveled in his direction. Stomach churning, Leith met King Respen’s eyes. “I’d like to return to Stetterly.”

  Vane’s blue eyes sparked as he crossed his arms. King Respen studied him. “Why?”

  Leith rubbed his dry tongue
against the inside of his teeth. If he messed up now… “I would like to complete the mission in Stetterly. I failed to bring as much information as I could have if I hadn’t been wounded.”

  King Respen shook his head. “You do not have the strength. You will remain here to work with the trainees. Nineteenth Blade Altin will also remain here.”

  Altin hunched in his chair. Leith bowed his head as if in obedience of the king’s decision, but instead he hid the burning in his chest.

  The First Blade had been sent to Stetterly.

  14

  Renna stood on the kitchen step, the sun beaming on her face. In the yard, piles of snow slowly lost their fluff. The blizzard had been the last gust of winter. In a few more weeks, spring would reclaim the earth from ice, but for now winter lingered in a mild hush.

  She stared at the hills surrounding the manor. Would she and Brandi live to see the spring?

  Her skin crawled with the feeling of being watched. A few days ago, she’d seen a flash of black. Uncle Abel found footprints in the slushy snow. Was a Blade watching her even now, planning how to kill her?

  Shivering, she stepped back into the house. The walls wrapped around her, giving an illusion of protection.

  Aunt Mara glanced up from kneading a ball of dough. Renna swiveled her gaze away, but not fast enough. She heard Aunt Mara wipe her hands on a cloth and hustle towards her. A moment later, soft arms enveloped her.

  Renna couldn’t lean her head against Aunt Mara’s shoulder the way she used to now that they stood the same height, but she still hugged her aunt, breathing in the scent of herbs and bread.

  Aunt Mara stroked her hair. “God has protected us this far. He will protect us going forward.”

  “I know, but…” Renna pulled away. Cold filled her chest and trembled into her hands. “What if the Blade told the king about us? A Blade could be out there now.”

  Aunt Mara’s gaze shifted to the window, the wrinkles on her face deepening. “I’ve wondered the same thing since that Blade left, but living in fear is a terrible place to be.”