Dare (The Blades of Acktar Book 1)

by Tricia Mingerink

  Releasing her hand, Lord Alistair turned back to his paperwork. Lady Alistair slipped from the room while the lord scratched a few more lines in the ledger.

  Leith didn’t move as Lord Alistair sighed, stuffed his quill into the inkwell, and snapped the book shut. Placing the ledger in a drawer, he lit a candle, blew out the lamp on his desk, and strode from the room.

  Leith waited for half an hour before he crept from his hiding place. The deep green rugs muffled his footsteps. Light oak shelves bordered the room while a large map of Acktar took up most of one wall.

  Underneath the map, the oak desk was placed a few feet into the room. Leith inched the curtains open another few inches to let the light from the rising moon stream into the room. He didn’t dare light a candle.

  But he needed to find proof of Lord Alistair’s involvement in the Resistance. Not to give to King Respen, but to prove to himself that Lord Alistair could save Renna and Brandi.

  He padded across the room and methodically searched the desk. The ledger was an account of the fields to be planted that spring. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  The top desk drawer on the right side contained a knife while the bottom drawer held nothing but more ledgers. Neither told Leith anything besides that Lord Alistair was mildly paranoid and kept up on his paperwork.

  After the desk turned up nothing, Leith searched the shelves for anything unusual. Partway through the second set of shelves, Leith paused, his hand hovering over a hard-bound book with a gilt title: A Farmer’s Manual for Crop Control. He glanced over the shelves he’d searched. He’d seen this book before.

  He tugged it off the shelf. The pages slipped from the hard cover. He managed to catch the pages before they fell. Flipping through them, he smiled. He’d stumbled onto one of Lord Alistair’s hidden Bibles.

  A longing rose into Leith’s throat. What would it be like to read for himself the stories that Brandi told him? What did this book hold that would prompt equally vehement love from Renna and hate from King Respen?

  Leith arranged the cover on the shelf so it looked like it still contained the Bible. He searched the rest of the shelves but discovered nothing else. If Lord Alistair was in the Resistance, he was too canny to hide anything in his study. Still, Leith would need more proof. He didn’t dare trust Renna’s and Brandi’s lives—not to mention his own—on finding one Bible.

  With a final glance around, Leith slipped through the curtains and out of the manor. With the moon beaming down from overhead, sneaking back to his horse was more challenging than getting in, but he managed without being seen.

  Taking Blizzard’s reins, Leith led him at a walk below the crests of the rolling hills. He eyed the night around him warily. Acktar’s rolling prairie offered little in the way of shelter except for the occasional creek bottom or ravine. Only the thick forests of the Sheered Rock Hills provided decent cover.

  Half a mile from the manor, Leith mounted and nudged the horse into a steady lope, avoiding a herd of cattle lowing in a valley, circled by men on horseback.

  Several miles to the north of Walden, Leith reached the foothills. Winding his way up a ridge and partially down the other side, he slipped into the protected hollow he’d found the day before. The small campsite remained as he’d left it earlier that evening.

  After Blizzard had enough to drink, Leith tied a length of rawhide between the horse’s front legs. This hobble would keep the horse from going too far from camp while Leith slept but also allow the horse some freedom to wander in pursuit of grass. With Blizzard taken care of, Leith slipped into his bedroll for a few hours of rest.

  Leith woke in the grey haze of early dawn. The silence wrapped around him as the night crickets slept and the first birds of morning ruffled their feathers to begin the day song. He rolled from his blanket, shook out his boots to make sure nothing had crawled into them while he’d slept, and tugged them on.

  Blizzard nibbled on a patch of grass a few yards away. His ears swiveled towards Leith, but his stance remained relaxed, assuring Leith that they were alone in their hollow.

  After eating a dry biscuit, Leith dressed in the light brown-colored clothing all Blades carried for stealth missions like this. He packed the Bible and a few more biscuits in a leather pack, and patted Blizzard’s neck. The prairie provided no place to hide the horse, and a lone horse drew too much attention. “I’ll be back tonight, boy.”

  Blizzard huffed a breath and returned to his grazing. Leith rolled his eyes and set out on foot over the ridge and across the prairie.

  He reached the hill overlooking Walden as the sun’s first fingers wiggled over the horizon. Dropping to his hands and knees, Leith crawled the last few feet to the top of the hill, slinking on his belly at the top. The tall grass waved over him, covering him so well a person would have to step on him to spot him. He parted the stalks in front of him to peer at the town and manor house below.

  Walden Manor lay below him, two stories built of a light brown stone with ledge running between the first and second floors. The garden he’d slipped through the night before was to his right, the front door to his left.

  The tiny figures of the guards walked their circuit around the manor’s grounds. To the north, the town arranged along two dirt tracks, one heading east to Flayin Falls and west to Duelstone and the other coming from Uster to the south, past Walden Manor, and ending at the edge of town.

  Leith settled in for a long day of watching the manor house. He ignored the spider crawling over the grass a few inches from his face and the mound of ants bustling near his feet. Easing the Bible from his pack, he placed it on the ground in front of him and slowly turned the pages until he reached the book of Daniel.

  Between reading a few verses, Leith watched Walden Manor. A few peasants and merchants streamed back and forth from the town to the manor and back again. Farmers could be seen on the far hills, walking behind their mules as they plowed into the winter-hardened earth. Behind Leith, cattle and sheep grazed the grassland.

  As he read farther in Daniel, he had to remind himself to glance up every once and a while. The words were familiar from Brandi’s stories, but she’d left out much of the story to draw him in before he discovered they were Bible stories.

  Chewing dry rations for lunch, Leith set the Bible aside. After the story about the lions’ den, the rest of the book seemed to be a confusing muddle of some sort. Leith needed a break, and activity around the manor demanded his attention.

  A group of guards practiced with swords and pikes on the lawn behind the manor. Leith frowned as the numbers grew until there were far too many people for this to be simply a training session for the manor guards. Even the farmers in the fields abandoned their plowing to pick up wooden swords.

  A rider crested the south hill at a full gallop. As he reined his horse to a skidding halt before the manor, Lord Alistair, recognizable in his blue tunic, strode to meet him. They conversed for a moment, and Leith caught sight of a flash of white. A note?

  Was this the proof he was looking for? A courier and a small army in training?

  Was he ready to take that first step? A shiver trickled along his spine. He could still leave now. Once he stepped forward, he could never go back to the way things were. That was assuming, of course, that Lord Alistair even listened to him, much less let him live.

  Did he dare? The consequences would be as harsh as the punishments that evil king had dished out to Daniel and his three friends. Leith might not face a fiery furnace or a den of lions, but King Respen would see that he’d suffer torture and death just the same.

  Daniel and his three friends were exceptions, perhaps bolstered by their mysterious God. If that was the case, then Leith would never have a hope of having their courage. Their God would never pay attention to someone like Leith.

  Leith fought to control the shakes that threatened to give away his position in the grass. He wasn’t brave enough to make that kind of stand. Could he face King Respen and refuse to follow an order?

>   But if he didn’t, Renna and Brandi would die. And he’d be bound to King Respen forever.

  19

  Dressed in his black clothing, Leith slipped onto the same, darkened windowseat in Lord Alistair’s study. His heart pounded in his throat and drummed in his ears. He froze in the darkness.

  Step forward or step back. Each beat of his heart swayed him between decisions. A beat of courage. A beat of fear. Once the decision was made, nothing could alter it.

  With a deep breath, Leith stepped into the lighted room. Lord Alistair hunched over his desk, scratching numbers into the leather-bound ledger. He stroked his close-cropped beard.

  Leith got within fifteen feet of the desk before Lord Alistair froze, his pen hovering in midair on its way back to the inkwell. With deliberate slowness, he placed his pen on the desk and looked up.

  “What do you want, Blade?” His tone was even, but Leith could hear the undercurrent of defiance. Lord Alistair inched his hand toward his desk drawer.

  “You won’t need the knife you have hidden in your desk.” Leith spread his hands out in front of him so the lord could see that all his knives remained sheathed. “I’m here to talk, not kill you. If I’d wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

  Lord Alistair eyed him, but he placed his hand on the desk where Leith could see it. “Give me Respen’s message and leave.”

  “I’m not here on behalf of the king.” The words tasted strange, but it was a good strange, like the first hint of spring scurrying across the melting snow.

  Lord Alistair raised both eyebrows. “You’re a Blade. Your only business is Respen’s business.”

  “Not this time.” Leith took a deep breath. “I’d like to return the Bible I stole from your bookshelf.” Reaching out slowly, Leith placed the book on the desk. He hadn’t read as much as he’d like, but he should return it.

  Lord Alistair stared at the book, his eyes flicking towards the bookshelf where the false cover hid nothing but air. “You were in here last night.” Only a flash in his eyes and the tips of white on his clenched knuckles betrayed his fear at learning his private sanctuary had been invaded before. “What else did you take?”

  “Nothing.” Leith met his gaze. “I know you’re a leader in the Resistance. I’d like to be your spy in the Blades.”

  Lord Alistair shot to his feet. “Get out. Whatever Respen’s plan is, it won’t work.”

  Leith blew out a breath. Convincing him would take time. “Please, I’m not going to hurt you. Just listen to what I have to say.”

  Lord Alistair crossed his arms and glared. Leith resisted the urge to cross his arms and glare back. King Respen had taught him to be tougher, stronger, quicker than anyone else. That strength was the last thing Leith needed now. He had to do the unthinkable in King Respen’s world and become meek.

  Slowly, so slowly that Lord Alistair couldn’t mistake his actions as threatening, Leith undid the buckle of his belt. He held it away from him and dropped it, the knives in their sheaths clanking. He unstrapped the rest of his weapons, adding them to the growing pile. Pulling off his boots, he tossed them aside.

  A glance at Lord Alistair showed he was still unconvinced. With shaking hands, Leith pulled his shirt over his head and dropped that to the side as well.

  With bowed head, Leith stepped away from his weapons and knelt on the ground. The hair along his arms prickled with the cool air brushing his chest.

  The muscles along his spine cramped. What would Lord Alistair do now that Leith was defenseless?

  A desk drawer scraped open and closed. Hushed footsteps strode around the desk. Leith didn’t move. The boots stopped in front of him.

  He could feel Lord Alistair’s eyes counting the marks on his arm. A knife rested against the vulnerable skin of his neck and forced his chin up.

  Leith met Lord Alistair’s hard, brown-eyed gaze. Lord Alistair was testing him, testing his meekness. He wanted Leith to break. But Leith didn’t look away.

  “What’s your game, Blade?” Lord Alistair growled and pressed the knife harder against Leith’s throat. “Did Respen order you to lure me into killing you? It’d give him reason to kill me and my family.”

  “He already knows you’re a part of the Resistance.” Leith’s words scraped past the knife, but he didn’t fight it. “I want to prevent more killing.”

  Lord Alistair’s eyes cut towards the scars on his arm. “Your marks say otherwise.”

  “Not all of them.” Leith eased his hand to his stomach and touched the scar. “On my last mission, I was wounded. I was rescued by Lady Rennelda and Lady Brandiline of Stetterly.”

  Lord Alistair jerked at the words. Leith winced as the knife pricked his skin. Lord Alistair grabbed a fistful of Leith’s hair and yanked his head back. Pain tore across Leith’s scalp. He struggled to breathe with his neck craned backwards.

  But he held himself as still as possible, fighting the years of training that screamed at him to fight back.

  Lord Alistair bent closer, his breath slicing against Leith’s cheek. “What did you do to them?”

  “Nothing. They helped me.” Leith fought the urge to claw away from that fist pulling out his hair. “I didn’t tell the king anything. I didn’t even tell him who had healed me. But another Blade reported them.”

  “Why should I believe you?” Lord Alistair tugged Leith’s head back farther. “It’s just your word.”

  “Listen.” The word came out as a gasp. The unnatural angle of his neck, the pain from his hair being dragged from his head, and the knife pressing down on his throat strangled him. “You have to believe me. They’re in danger.”

  Lord Alistair released him and stepped back. Leith gasped his first decent breath in several minutes. His fingers shook. Had Lord Alistair noticed?

  “What proof do I have that this isn’t one of Respen’s plots?” Lord Alistair pointed his knife at Leith. “You could be the Blade that told him everything, and he decided to use this incident to make it look like you’ve had a change of heart. It would give you a convenient means to work your way into my trust.”

  Leith bowed his head. He had no way to prove he was anything other than the king’s pawn. Every action he did could be taken two ways. Lord Alistair couldn’t read his heart. Only One could.

  Leith’s heart pounded. Would he be struck with fire from Heaven for daring to invoke the name of Renna’s God? “God in Heaven as my witness, I mean you no harm.”

  Lord Alistair’s knife was back at Leith’s throat in an instant. He forced Leith to meet his burning eyes. “If you take the Almighty Lord’s name in vain, it will be His eternal wrath you face, not mine.”

  Leith didn’t look away. The words should’ve filled him with fear, but they didn’t. He deserved the wrath of God for plenty of things, but he didn’t invoke Him in vain now.

  Lord Alistair stepped back once again. This time, he placed the knife on top of the desk and faced Leith. “You pose quite a problem. If you’re lying and I trust you, I’ll be opening myself to my greatest threat. If you’re telling the truth and I turn you away, I’ll be sending away my greatest asset.”

  Leith stayed silent. He sensed words now would harm his cause more than help.

  Lord Alistair gave him a glare to stay put. With several glances back over his shoulder, he walked to the door of his study, cracked it open, and spoke to the guard outside the door. Shutting the door, he returned to his spot near the desk.

  Leith didn’t move. He needed to appear as non-threatening as possible.

  A knock sounded on the door. Lord Alistair kept his eyes fixed on Leith. “Come in.”

  A young man strode into the room. His eyes took in the scene even as his hand shut the door behind him. He focused on the line of marks on Leith’s shoulder and arm. To his credit, he didn’t speak as he strolled across the room.

  Leith studied him, taking in the leather, guard’s uniform, the easy swing of the sword at his side, and the comfortable way a quiver of arrows and unstrung bow r
ested across his back. This young man was a trained fighter, skilled with the bow and sword. His brown eyes flicked toward Leith before he faced Lord Alistair.

  Lord Alistair waved at Leith. “Shadrach, this Blade claims he wants to switch sides.”

  The guard, Shadrach, crossed his arms, his brown hair falling into his eyes. “You believe him?”

  “No. But we can’t afford to dismiss him entirely either. He could be the answer to our prayers.”

  “Or our worst enemy.” Shadrach’s hand strayed to his sword’s hilt. Leith’s stomach clenched. This young man might decide it’d be easier to slit Leith’s throat and ask questions later.

  “I don’t trust him, but I feel we must investigate this.” Lord Alistair studied Leith, as if really seeing him for the first time. “How old are you, boy?”

  “Eighteen.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Which Blade are you? The Fifteenth? Maybe the Tenth?”

  Leith pressed his palms against his knees. What would they do when they realized which Blade they had in their manor? “I’m the Third Blade.”

  While Lord Alistair didn’t recoil the way Renna had, Leith could see disgust flash into his eyes. Leith’s rank in the Blades announced he was one of the original eight that had taken Acktar, participated in the bloodshed of that battle, and had killed King Leon, Queen Deirdre and their four sons. No amount of meekness could undo all that.

  Shadrach’s hand tightened on his sword hilt. “How many marks do you have?”

  Leith fisted his hands tighter. His marks ranged down his arm, visible in the lamplight. He couldn’t lie. “Thirty-five.”

  Lord Alistair and Shadrach shared a glance. Lord Alistair gave a small nod. Shadrach circled Leith, picked up his shirt from the pile he’d left on the floor, and pushed the weapons farther away. “Stand up.”

  Leith did as he was told, standing still as Shadrach frisked him for any additional weapons hiding under his trousers. Shadrach stood several inches taller than Leith, with broader shoulders and thicker arms.