Dare (The Blades of Acktar Book 1)

by Tricia Mingerink

  Shadrach rested his arms on the table. “No trouble. Far from it. He went out of his way to prove himself.”

  “Is it a trick?” Lord Alistair’s question echoed the buzz in Renna’s head.

  She dipped a glass in the water bucket. As she set it in front of Shadrach, he smiled at her. Her hand bobbled. Water sloshed over the rim, across her fingers, and onto the table.

  His hand darted forward and steadied the glass before she dumped the rest across his lap. Her face heated. He must think her a clumsy girl who couldn’t even handle a glass of water.

  “Thanks.” He tugged the glass from her grip. She dropped her hand and backed away. Shadrach turned to his father. “Not a trick. I trust him. He’s sincere.”

  Brandi smirked. “Told you.”

  Shadrach winked at her. “I bet you did. Leith told me all about your stories.”

  The smell of frying eggs turned Renna’s stomach. She held her breath as Aunt Mara passed her, carrying the frying pan in a cloth-wrapped hand.

  “Where is he now?” Uncle Abel dragged the curtain aside with a finger and peered out.

  “To keep up appearances, Leith had to meet the First Blade yesterday morning. Both of them are out there somewhere. Leith will find me when the First Blade leaves.” Shadrach leaned backward to give Aunt Mara room to place an egg on his plate. “Thanks. I haven’t had a hot breakfast in almost a week.”

  Aunt Mara’s smile lifted her cheeks and sparkled in her blue eyes. “You’re welcome. There’ll be more when you finish that.”

  Uncle Abel dropped the curtain and leaned his shoulder against the wall. “What makes him think the First Blade will leave?”

  Lord Alistair scrubbed at his beard as Aunt Mara placed an egg on his plate. “Leith Torren claimed the First Blade only had orders to stay here two weeks, but we can’t be sure the First Blade will leave once he sees we’ve arrived.”

  Shadrach shrugged one shoulder. “Leith seemed confident he could convince the First Blade to leave.”

  “Let’s hope so.” Lines formed across Lord Alistair’s forehead.

  Renna twisted her hands in her skirt. Would the First Blade leave? Or would he send Leith Torren back to Nalgar Castle instead?

  She’d rather both Blades returned to the castle, but if she had to pick a Blade to stick around, Leith Torren was the better of the two.

  Leith sprawled on his stomach in the tall grass, overlooking Stetterly Manor. What was Shad telling Lord Alistair?

  Vane lay a few feet away, still as a hunting mountain lion. “Seems I was correct. Lord Alistair does intend to use Lady Rennelda to claim the throne.”

  Leith spread his fingers in the sand. If that was Lord Alistair's plan, would Renna go along with it?

  He tensed and eyed Vane. “King Respen will have to be informed of this development.”

  “You will report to the king.” Vane stared at Stetterly Manor like a hawk studied a prairie dog hole. “I'll remain here.”

  Leith dug his fingers into the sand. Grit scraped under his fingernails. Vane couldn’t stay here. “King Respen will want his right-hand Blade to counter this latest plot. Besides, they’ll return to Walden in a few days, and Walden is my mission.”

  He held his breath. King Respen had ordered Vane to return to the castle in two weeks. It made no sense to send Leith when Vane had to return in a week anyways. But Vane didn’t always listen to sense.

  Vane’s mouth curled. “You wish to challenge me? You want to become First Blade?” His hand inched toward his throwing knife.

  Leith met those pale eyes and forced confidence into his muscles. “You know I have no wish to be First Blade.”

  Vane’s gaze pierced him for a moment before he snorted. “No, you’re right. You don’t have that kind of ambition. Never did as a kid. You could’ve been the Second Blade had you gotten the guts to kill earlier.”

  “Nor do I want anyone else to think I’m usurping your position now.” Leith didn’t dare glance at Vane for fear he’d give himself away. “If I returned to confer with King Respen, the other Blades might think I was trying to undermine your position. Spying on Walden or Stetterly, that’s a job for a lower Blade. But planning King Respen’s countermove? That’s a job for the First Blade.”

  A few feet away, crickets chirped and bounced between blades of grass. A bird swooped low above them, its wings thumping the air. Something skittered in the grass by Leith’s knees.

  Vane remained still, his tawny clothes fading into the sand. “I’ll return to Nalgar Castle. You’ll remain here to follow Lord Alistair and the ladies Rennelda and Brandiline to Walden.”

  Leith didn’t allow himself to relax. “Very well.”

  “And, Torren,” Vane’s voice dropped into the icy danger of a blizzard wind, “The ladies Rennelda and Brandiline are mine.”

  Leith dredged up the familiar cold. “Your targets are yours to kill.”

  He touched the hilt of his knife. Renna and Brandi were Vane’s to kill…and Leith’s to save.

  26

  Renna curled her fingers in the smooth fabric of her Sunday dress. A few of the other girls spoke to her as they hurried out of the way so the men could arrange the tables and benches in the ballroom for the Sunday dinner between services.

  Renna managed to smile at them, but her gaze kept drifting upward to the curtains draped across the balcony. Shadrach told them Leith Torren had reported to him three days ago that the First Blade had left. Was the Third Blade in that balcony now, spying on the service as he had that Sunday last time he was here?

  Across the room, Michelle Allen all but draped herself against Shadrach as he talked with the other young people in their congregation. Renna eyed him. Would he look for her? Was he hoping she’d join them? She stared for several minutes, but he never so much as glanced in her direction.

  “Excuse me. Could you move?”

  Renna jumped and stumbled backwards. One of the boys from their congregation hefted one end of a bench, his brother straining on the other side. “Sorry.” She backed away, turned, and fled the ballroom.

  She should help Aunt Mara in the kitchen. But her feet turned towards the back stairway before her mind caught up. Nothing lately was her decision. She’d been told she had to leave her home. She’d been told about the danger from King Respen. And now she was being told this Blade was trustworthy.

  Perhaps she couldn’t change the decision to leave her home, but she could make up her own mind about Leith Torren. And to do that, she needed to talk to him.

  Her shoes clipped. The wood popped and creaked with her footfalls. When she reached the top, silence cloaked the upper gallery. The curtain blocked the light from the windows below, and the far end of the gallery disappeared into a gray dusk.

  She stepped forward, her heart pulsing in her throat. If Leith Torren had lied, he could attack her now that she was vulnerable and he had his strength. Or the First Blade might still be here, waiting for another chance to torment her.

  But she had to know the truth. If either of those things happened, she’d force herself to scream. Her scream would warn Uncle Abel and Lord Alistair that the Blade was tricking them. They’d keep Brandi safe.

  “I know you’re up here.” She peered into the semi-darkness. “I need to talk to you.”

  She wrapped her arms around her stomach while she waited for the Blade.

  A shadow moved along the wall. The sparks of sunlight filtering through the curtains glinted on the knives strapped across his chest and to his waist. He kept his hands at his sides, palms up. “Are you all right?”

  “No.” She blinked at the curtains instead of his green eyes. “I’ve been stalked by the First Blade. King Respen is planning to kill me. I’m being forced to leave my home, and I don’t even get a say about it. I’m not all right. I haven’t been all right since the night you helped kill my parents.”

  The words strengthened her spine. She was tired of being helpless, of not making her own choices. But being here, facing
him and speaking her mind instead of swallowing the bitterness of words she didn’t dare say, felt better than holding a dagger to his chest.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked on the last word. “You probably don’t believe me, but it is the truth.”

  She peeked up at him. He hadn’t moved, his eyes peering at her through a fringe of black hair. If he didn’t look so vulnerable, she might’ve found more words to stab at him.

  Instead, she leaned against the wall, slid to the floor, and hugged her knees. She waited for fear to prickle along her skin as it had when she’d been alone with the First Blade. But it didn’t.

  She squared her shoulders and met his gaze. “Why didn’t the First Blade kill me?”

  He slid to the ground several feet away. “You and Brandi are the First Blade’s only failure. He’s become obsessed with the idea of killing you. Since he can’t kill you until King Respen gives the order, he’s going to torment you instead. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him.”

  She hugged her knees tighter. “And when King Respen does give the order?”

  The Blade rubbed a hand along one of his knives. “I’ll do my best, but I can’t face the First Blade alone. He’s better than me.”

  Voices babbled in the ballroom below. Had anyone noticed she was missing? Had Shadrach noticed? Would he come looking for her? Would Shadrach be able to protect her from the First Blade? “Did you really hide what you learned from King Respen?”

  “Yes.” The Blade rubbed at a scuff on his boot. “Seeing your courage made me want to be brave too.”

  “I’m not brave.” She rested her chin on her arms. If she were brave, she’d go up to Shadrach and talk to him instead of cowering up here. If she had courage, she wouldn’t be so helpless all the time. He didn’t know her, not really, or he’d know he was wrong.

  “You saved me when it would’ve been easier to let me die. You hid me when it would’ve been safer to let the sheriff kill me.” A hint of a smile creased his mouth and puckered into dimples in his slim cheeks. “You’re here confronting a Blade when it would’ve been wiser to remain in the ballroom.”

  She flapped a hand at him. “You’re not going to hurt me. If you were, you’d have done it long before now.”

  He wasn’t going to hurt her. She still didn’t trust him, but he was safe in a way the First Blade wasn’t. She wasn’t sure what trick he was playing, but he wasn’t going to hurt her just for the enjoyment of it.

  “Don’t discount your type of bravery.” He shrugged, his eyes swerving everywhere but at her. “It takes more courage to help someone who doesn’t deserve it than someone who does.”

  His words settled into her like water filling cracks in sunbaked ground. Was she brave? Even a little bit?

  Footsteps tromped on the stairs. Renna jumped and glanced at the Blade. He scrambled to his feet, cocked his head, and relaxed.

  Brandi hopped up the last few stairs and dashed across the gallery. “Leith!”

  The Blade barely had time to brace himself before Brandi plowed into him. He smiled, the dimples in his cheeks deepening, as he hugged her.

  Renna found herself unable to tear her gaze away. With his green eyes twinkling, he didn’t look like a Blade. He looked like…a boy.

  More footsteps pounded the stairs. Shadrach stepped into the gallery, balancing a tray heaped with plates and steaming dishes.

  Brandi spun on her heels. Her smirk crinkled her nose. “See. I told you they’d be up here.”

  Shadrach set the tray on the ground in front of Renna. “Good thing we brought enough food for four.”

  Brandi flopped to the floor across from Renna while Shadrach folded his long legs and sat to Renna’s left between her and Brandi.

  Renna stared at the open spot next to her. Brandi patted the floor. “Come on. Sit. I’m hungry.”

  The Third Blade tiptoed away from the wall and eased to the floor. This close to him, she could see the scattered bristles on his chin. The tips of his black hair brushed his tanned forehead. Shafts of light winked on the hilts of the knives strapped to his chest.

  She waited for fear to prickle along her skin or dance down her spine. Her stomach growled. Her scalp itched.

  Was he right? Did she have a shred of courage buried deep down? She toyed with her skirt and peeked at him. “Thanks…Leith.”

  A smile twitched his mouth as he ducked his head. Were his ears turning red? She couldn’t tell in the half-light, but she smiled too. Saying his name was better than a dagger or angry words.

  27

  Leith leaned against a tree near the edge of the Spires Canyon. Behind him, Blizzard lipped at a tuft of grass. An owl’s harrooo shivered through the darkness.

  A large animal rustled the prairie grass coming towards him. Blizzard huffed a breath and cropped at the grass once again.

  Dark shapes moved closer, but Leith didn’t reach for his knives. The starlight gleamed against the prairie enough for Leith to make out Shad’s face as he halted a few feet away, his horse lowering its head to graze. “I was just getting used to sleeping in a real bed.”

  Leith grabbed Blizzard’s reins and elbowed Shad. “Four days and the lord’s son goes soft.”

  Shad slugged Leith’s shoulder. “And the Blade is jealous. Now let’s set up camp and get some sleep. My father is planning to leave early.”

  Leith turned towards the town instead of the path into the canyon. “Before we set up camp, there’s someone I need to talk to in Stetterly. I’d like you to come with me.”

  “To keep my father from misunderstanding?”

  “And to prevent the man from killing me.”

  Leith swung onto Blizzard. They rode in silence across the stretch of prairie between the manor and the village. At the edge of town, Leith ground-hitched Blizzard. Shad also dropped his horse’s reins.

  Together, they slipped into the dark alleys between the buildings. Reaching a house near the edge of town, Leith’s stomach tensed when he noticed a candle still shone in the window. “Could you knock? He won’t step outside if he sees me.”

  Shad crossed his arms, but his mouth twitched in a smirk. “Who am I going to be luring outside for your nefarious scheme?”

  “He’s the town sheriff. Last time I was in Stetterly, the Twenty-Second Blade kidnapped his daughter. The sheriff accidentally killed him and hunted me. I need to warn him.”

  “All right.” Shad walked to the door and knocked. Leith pressed his back against the wall of the house. The shadows wrapped around him.

  The door opened. The sheriff poked his head out. “Shadrach Alistair. Would you like to step inside?”

  “It’d be better if you came outside.”

  The sheriff strode out and closed the door behind him. “What’s this about?”

  Leith moved between him and the door. “I need to talk to you.”

  The sheriff whirled. He pawed at the dagger stuffed in his belt. “You don’t scare me, Blade.”

  Leith held up his palms. “I came to warn you.”

  The sheriff’s gaze shifted from Shad, then back to Leith. “It seems I don’t have a choice. I’m listening.”

  “When I returned to Nalgar Castle, I didn’t tell King Respen about Renna and her family. But, I had to tell the king something so I told him you hunted me.”

  Leith's fingers itched to touch his knives. He clasped his hands behind his back. “The king leapt to the conclusion that the Twenty-Second Blade’s death was part of a Resistance plot.”

  The sheriff's face paled in the uncertain light. “He’ll have me killed.”

  Leith nodded. Another family he’d endangered. “He has other plans at the moment, but he won’t forget about you. If I were you, I’d leave Stetterly as soon as you and your family are able.”

  Shad stepped forward. “Make your way to Walden. We can get you and your family somewhere safe.”

  “Thank-you.” The sheriff bobbed his head towards Shad. Turning back to Leith, he eyed him. “Why would you come back to wa
rn me?”

  Leith wasn’t sure. Something had been unfinished until tonight.

  The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. Leith wiped his palms on his shirt. He couldn’t hide his involvement with the Resistance, not after he’d shown up on the sheriff’s doorstep with Shadrach Alistair at his side.

  As long as King Respen or Vane never got a hold of the sheriff and interrogated him, Leith would be fine.

  “Thank-you.” The sheriff gave Leith a nod and retreated into his house.

  Shad raised his eyebrows. “You could’ve told me it was a Resistance mission.”

  Leith shrugged. “Would you have believed me?”

  “Of course.” Shad clapped him on the back as they crept between the buildings. “Now let’s set up camp and get some sleep before dawn.”

  28

  Renna hugged Aunt Mara and breathed in the warm scent of bread and sage. A dove chittered overhead and landed on the peak of the manor roof where it woo-cooed long and low.

  Aunt Mara stepped back first. “We’ll visit Walden as soon as we can.”

  Brandi shoved between Renna and Aunt Mara. “Will you be there for my birthday? It’s only a month away.”

  “We’ll try.” Aunt Mara hugged Brandi, but Renna spotted the tear slipping down Aunt Mara’s face.

  Renna rubbed her fingers along the leather of her divided skirt, an ache building in her chest and rising into her throat. Aunt Mara hadn’t promised anything. She didn’t know when—or if—she and Uncle Abel could come to Walden. Renna might never see them again.

  She wrapped her arms around Uncle Abel’s neck and pressed her face against his shoulder. He rubbed her back as he’d done when she’d cried for her parents’ deaths.

  How was Renna going to survive at Walden without Uncle Abel and Aunt Mara? She needed their solid shoulders, their unmovable faith. Her faith drifted as wispy as a cloud strung across a summer sky.