Dare (The Blades of Acktar Book 1)

by Tricia Mingerink

  34

  Leith poked his finger in the ground, dropped a seed of corn in the hole, and covered it once again. Moving forward a couple of inches, he repeated the process.

  For once, his efforts were growing something. These seeds would grow into plants that’d feed Shad’s family and the servants that lived in Walden Manor. Up until now, Leith had only ever planted bodies six feet down, soaking the earth with blood.

  Now, he had honorable dirt on his hands, the ache of labor in his back, and the contentment at the end of each day that he’d accomplished something worthwhile.

  Tonight he’d have to return the Bible, the rough work clothes, the peasant’s lifestyle. He’d put on his black clothes and return to a campsite in the forest. Tomorrow, the first of the nobles would arrive, and Leith would once again be a King’s Blade.

  He speared the ground and dropped in another seed. He had to be a Blade only a little longer. Once he’d stopped Vane from killing Renna and Brandi, he could collect on Lord Alistair’s promise. He’d be free to leave the Blades and disappear into the Sheered Rock Hills.

  Why did that ache in his chest? He wasn’t reluctant to leave the Blades. Was it his friendship with Martyn, a friendship he’d have to sacrifice to leave? Or was it knowing he’d disappear and leave Renna, Brandi, and Shad behind in Walden?

  “Hey.” Brandi plopped onto the grass outside the garden. “How much more do you have to go?”

  Leith waved at the two feet of dirt that separated him from the edge. “Looks like two more rows.” He glanced at the shadows cast by the sun. A few hours left. So little time, and he couldn’t even tell Brandi he was leaving. “How’s Blizzard?”

  “Good. I’ve been giving him apples and brushing him every day.” She bounced on her heels and leaned forward to peer at the hole he’d poked in the ground. She stilled, her eyes darkening. “I’m going to miss him when you leave.”

  He halted, one finger buried to the second knuckle in the dirt. She’d guessed he’d have to leave soon. “Blizzard will miss you too. As will I.”

  This time, she didn’t ask him why he had to leave. Perhaps she better understood the knife’s edge he walked.

  When she didn’t speak for several long minutes, he brushed off his hands and sat next to her. She had her knees tucked against her chest, the toes of her boots peeking from under her skirt. “Will Uncle Abel and Aunt Mara be all right?”

  He rested his forearms on his knees. “They’ll be fine. There isn’t even a Blade stationed at Stetterly.”

  “I know, but we have you to protect us and they don’t have anybody.” Brandi stared south, her eyes wet.

  His chest ached with knots. What could he say to reassure her without sugarcoating the truth? She was thirteen, the same age he’d been when he’d become a Blade. She could handle the danger. “Respen won’t send a Blade after them this time. He can’t without taking a Blade away from more important targets.”

  She nodded and swiped at her eyes. He patted her knee. “You look after your sister, all right? She’s going to need you to be brave.”

  Brandi straightened her shoulders, her jaw stiffening.

  Leith returned to work, and Brandi kept him company, handing him seeds and chattering as if she’d never been worried.

  When he finished planting the garden and Brandi left for supper, he grabbed a quick meal in the kitchens, retrieved his weapons from Shad’s room, and sneaked Blizzard out of the stables. Hiding his horse in the trees behind the flower garden, he changed into his black clothing.

  As he strapped on his knives, the hair along his arms and neck rose. He touched one of his knives and scanned the trees around him. Was it his imagination or instincts?

  Crickets squeaked in the prairie grass. The breeze stirred the scent of churned earth and whined through the branches, dropping powdery buds onto Leith’s hair and shoulders. Nothing seemed out of place.

  He sneaked past the guards, though the flower garden, and slipped over the windowsill into Lord Alistair’s study. The dry scent of paper wrapped around him even in the alcove.

  Shutting the windows, he jammed a knife through the latch. After a moment’s consideration, he dragged the cushions from the windowseat, exposing the stone ledge underneath.

  Pressing against the wall, he eased around the end of the curtain in the shadows next to the wall instead of striding through the center where the light inside the room would silhouette him against the window.

  Shad had his hands pressed against Lord Alistair’s desk, speaking in a low tone Leith couldn’t hear. Lord Alistair leaned back in his chair, fingertips pressed together, eyes hard as the manor’s walls.

  Leith cleared his throat and stepped into the candlelight. Shad whirled, his hand reached for his sword, before his gaze rested on Leith. He grinned, and his hand dropped from his sword. “I’d forgotten what you looked like as a Blade.”

  “Me too.” His knives bumped against his ribs and weighed down his boots. For two weeks, he’d been able to forget that he’d only been playing a role. He wasn’t Daniel, a wandering peasant. He was Third Blade Leith Torren, and his past couldn’t be put aside as easily as his knives.

  “Let’s go over the Blades’ missions again.” Lord Alistair waved at the map on the wall. “Don’t leave anything out. Any detail, no matter how tiny, could be crucial.”

  Leith straightened his shoulders, strode to the map, and tapped the town of Sierra. “The Second Blade is stationed here. He’s good at throwing knives, but he has a tendency to rush if he’s cornered.”

  He shivered at the cold tone of his own voice. Without meaning, he’d slipped into the same voice he used when reporting to King Respen.

  He pointed at each town and recounted everything he could about each Blades’ fighting style and mannerisms. Behind him, only Lord Alistair and Shad’s breathing filled the room. They couldn’t chance writing anything down.

  Leith hesitated. His finger rubbed against the carved divot that marked Uster on the map. What if his information got Martyn killed? Did he want to be responsible for his friend’s death?

  But if he didn’t tell Lord Alistair about Martyn, Martyn would murder Lord Segon and his family. “The Sixth Blade is stationed here. He can’t throw knives, but he’s good at tracking. He…” Leith’s voice cracked as he turned to face them. “He’s my friend.”

  “We’ll ask Lord Segon to do his best to drive the Blade off without hurting him.” Shad gave him a slow nod.

  Leith’s shoulders relaxed. Shad understood.

  “And you and the First Blade will be sent here.” Lord Alistair tapped his fingers against his beard. “What if King Respen decides to send only the First Blade here and send you somewhere else? Isn’t it a waste to send two Blades?”

  A valid question. Leith crossed his arms. “I don’t think so. You have a large family. Nine people are too many targets for one Blade, even the First Blade. If Respen should send me elsewhere, I’ll ignore my target and come here anyway.”

  “And if the First Blade is sent elsewhere?” Shad raised his eyebrows.

  Leith snorted at that. “The First Blade is so obsessed with Renna and Brandi. I don’t think even Respen would dare take them away from him.”

  “So Respen fears the killer he’s created.” Lord Alistair stroked his beard. “He has to give the First Blade what he wants.”

  Leith touched his knives. How much did Respen actually trust Vane?

  Shad leaned on the desk. “We came up with a plan to corner the First Blade when the two of you return.”

  Leith stepped closer. A sketch of the first floor of Walden Manor spread across the oak.

  Lord Alistair tapped on the curved line that designated the study’s window. “You and the First Blade will come in through here. We’ll leave the corridor outside the study free of guards, but we’ll have guards armed with bows stationed in the far room here and the entry here. Once you have the First Blade in the corridor, shout for Shadrach, and he and the guards will block both
ends of the corridor. The First Blade will be trapped. Hopefully, he’ll surrender.”

  Vane would fight, but Leith didn’t try to correct them. Better to let them think they were planning Vane’s capture, not his death. Leith inched his hand to his knife. When the time came, he’d kill Vane before he had a chance to hurt Renna and Brandi. “And if he tries to get past you?”

  “We thought we’d send the women and children into the Sheered Rock Hills until the danger was passed.”

  Leith shook his head. “Vane is too good at tracking. If he can’t kill Renna and Brandi here, he’ll track them down even if it means risking being late to the next Meeting of the Blades.”

  “In that case, the upper corridors can be well-guarded, and everyone instructed to lock their doors to delay any attempt to enter.” Shad traced the staircase on the sketch. “We’ll be prepared.”

  Lord Alistair leaned back in his seat. “We won’t know the exact day of the attack, so we’ll have to put the plan into action the day after the next Meeting of the Blades. I assume we won’t have long to wait. If Respen wishes to make these attacks appear to be retaliation for my gathering, he’ll act immediately.”

  Leith waved in the direction of the garden. “Shad and I worked out a system. I’ll leave a pile of rocks at the northwest corner of the vegetable garden. I’ll try to slip into Walden the night before the attack to warn you if I can.”

  “Good.” Lord Alistair tapped his chin for several minutes before he bowed his head. “May the Lord bless our plans.”

  Leith’s muscles tensed. But would He? So much trust to rest on nothing but faith. Leith couldn’t see how they managed it. He turned to Shad. “I left the Bible in your room. Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

  Shad clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll keep it here for you when you return. After Respen’s plans fall apart, he’ll know you gave information to us. But don’t worry. We’ll get you out of here.”

  Freedom. Leith tried to capture the taste of it, but he couldn’t. What would it be like to ride away from Nalgar Castle knowing he’d never return?

  A pang shot through his chest. Before he could be free, he’d have to face Vane. “Do you think God would give me courage if you asked for me?”

  Leith hadn’t meant for his words to come out sounding so vulnerable. He straightened his shoulders and faced them.

  Shad held his hands out, palms up, as if speaking to a spooked horse. “You could ask for courage yourself.”

  The longing cascaded over him like the waterfalls on the Ondieda River. “I can’t. God would never want me.”

  He stared at the pattern his scuffing toe made in the green rug. “I prayed for courage, once. When I faced King Respen after Renna healed me and I wasn’t sure what I was going to tell him. I prayed for courage, and I think He gave me some for Renna and Brandi’s sake.”

  Shad’s eyebrows lowered over his dark brown eyes. “The only reason God listens to our prayers is for the sake of His Son, Jesus Christ, not for the sake of sinful human beings. For Christ’s sake, God listens to every prayer given by one of His own.”

  Leith’s thin thread of hope snapped and flew away on a blizzard wind. God would never grant him courage, not even for Renna’s sake. He was truly hopeless.

  Shad held his arms out, as if he wanted to beg Leith to understand. “You don’t see it, do you? You said God gave you courage. You’re already one of His people.”

  Leith shook his head. He couldn’t have heard Shad right. “God wouldn’t choose me. Look at what I’ve done.”

  “That’s the point. God doesn’t look at what we’ve done. He looks at what Christ did.” Shad glanced at Lord Alistair as if pleading for help.

  Lord Alistair leaned his elbows on the desk. “He forgives us. Like a father.”

  “Like a father?” Why did they have to keep pushing this? Couldn’t they see how much he wanted to grasp it?

  But it was impossible. They didn’t know—couldn’t know—what stood in the way.

  Leith crossed his arms and hung his head. “I could never be good enough to please my father. He hit me when I didn’t bring him his whiskey mug fast enough. When he got sick of feeding me, he sold me to Lord Respen to pay his gambling debts. I know what I was worth to my father. One night at the card table.”

  “Your father sold you to Lord Respen?” Shad’s voice rose an octave. Of course he wouldn’t be able to understand. With a father like Lord Alistair, he wouldn’t be able to comprehend the mixture of ache and anger that filled the spot in Leith’s chest that should’ve been filled by his father.

  “My own father didn’t want me. What makes you think God would be any different?” The long ago taste of blood, sweat, and stale whiskey coated his tongue. His head spun with the memory of hitting the floor, ears ringing, the cracked bone in his arm screaming, though he hadn’t dared voice his pain and risk another blow.

  “You can’t compare God to your father.” Lord Alistair’s voice softened. “We earthly fathers are only pictures of our Heavenly Father. If we’re good fathers, it’s only because we’re on our knees every night asking God to grant us the strength and wisdom to be better pictures for our children.”

  Lord Alistair’s gaze fixed on Leith, but Leith sensed his words were meant for Shad as much as for him. Shad’s sword thunked against the desk as he shifted.

  “Your father made you a slave to Respen.” Leith could picture Lord Alistair steepling his fingers and leaning back in his chair. “And your slavery to him only increased the more you did. Because of sin, we’re all slaves of evil, binding ourselves tighter with each sin.”

  Respen owned him. Leith had sold his soul for him, drenching himself in blood, binding himself with loyalty to the Blades. At least Respen had been better than his father. Leith had pleased King Respen, had earned the marks on his arm, and heard the king tell him well done thirty-five times.

  “But God had a plan all along. He sent His Son to die to purchase us from our slavery.”

  Leith’s head reeled with heat. “So your God is just like my father. He sold His Son to pay someone else’s debts.”

  Shad’s eyes widened, but Lord Alistair didn’t flinch. “You were unwilling when your father sold you, but Jesus volunteered to die on the cross. In His sacrifice, God’s people were adopted as God’s sons and daughters. So He wasn’t dying for strangers. He was dying for His brothers and sisters.”

  “Sometimes the eldest son, as the firstborn, has to risk himself for his brothers and sisters.” Shad leaned against the wall, his gaze focused on Lord Alistair.

  Could Leith be one of God’s people? It didn’t seem possible. He clenched his fists, as if he could hold what they were telling him, but he didn’t dare.

  He stepped away from the desk, turning his back to them. He had to reconstruct all the walls that had crumbled in the last few weeks. When the other Blades arrived, he couldn’t be weak like this.

  Letting out a long breath, he turned around. Steel closed around his heart. “If that’s all, then I’d better get going.” He pushed through the curtains, replaced the cushions on the windowseat, and yanked his dagger from the lock.

  Easing out the window, he slipped into the darkness surrounding Walden Manor.

  As he crept through the garden, a voice oozed from the darkness. “You’ve become very cozy with the lord of Walden and his guests.”

  Leith froze. How much had Vane overheard? Could he have heard Leith’s conversation with Lord Alistair and Shad just now?

  No, Vane couldn’t have. Leith’s dagger had been jammed in the lock as he’d left it, and any attempt to dislodge it would’ve sent it clunking onto the stone windowseat. Vane had to assume Leith was spying on Lord Alistair as ordered.

  Vane was fishing, and Leith’s hesitation was giving him the information he searched for. Vane must’ve spied on him earlier in the day and saw Leith with Shad and Brandi.

  Leith glanced through the darkness, but he couldn’t spot Vane. “I got a job as a peasan
t farmer so I could get close to them.”

  “Clever.” Derision dripped from Vane’s voice.

  Leith resisted the urge to pick at the dirt crusted underneath his fingernails. He wasn’t ashamed of the hard work he’d done in the last few weeks.

  “It must be satisfying, knowing you’ll see the pain of your betrayal on their faces when you kill them.”

  Was Vane testing him? Or was he reveling in the coming bloodshed? Leith couldn’t afford to disagree either way. “Yes.”

  A rustle whispered in the darkness, and Vane appeared beside him. Leith followed him along the hedge, past the guards, and into the trees. Retrieving Blizzard, Leith fell into step with Vane as they hiked across the prairie towards the Sheered Rock Hills.

  When the rolling hills screened them from the manor and town, Leith turned to Vane. “What are you doing here?”

  Vane’s teeth glinted in the light of the crescent moon hovering above the horizon. “The Twelfth Blade reported that Lord Alistair was gathering a number of his friends to a celebration. The king sent me to investigate.”

  Leith worked to keep the grimace from his face. Of course Twelfth Blade Quinten Daas had reported it. He was stationed at Aven, only a day’s ride from Nalgar Castle, and he never missed a chance to get in Respen’s good graces.

  “What’re the king’s orders?” Leith gripped Blizzard’s reins. Had Respen given Vane orders to attack at the celebration?

  “We’re to observe who the lord of Walden invited. Nothing more.” Vane’s mouth curled into a frown.

  Leith couldn’t show the relief that eased the muscles in his shoulders and neck. Cold stars dotted the sky high above him, though a line of purple clouds stretched across the western horizon.

  The prairie rustled with the breeze dancing through the grass and gorging itself on the scents of dust, dry grass, and the wet promise of rain. In the hollow, the first mosquitoes of the year buzzed his ears.

  Would anyone miss him tomorrow? Brandi might. Would Renna?

  He couldn’t think about them. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. For the next few days, he had to be a Blade and nothing more.