Dare (The Blades of Acktar Book 1)

by Tricia Mingerink

  Lord Farthen rubbed his smooth jaw. “What do you suggest we do?”

  “When you return to your towns, don’t change the number of guards or their patrol patterns outside. Inside your manor, keep several guards with you at all times, especially at night. When the Blade attacks, you’ll have to overwhelm him with numbers. Arrows work best.”

  “What? You mean, fight the Blades?” A nobleman dressed in lavish red silk bolted upright.

  “Preposterous!” Lord Doughtry huffed.

  Lord Hector Emilin ran a hand through his blond hair. “I’ve never done anything to provoke King Respen except maintain a quiet, underground church.” He glanced at Lord Alistair. “It’s wrong to rebel against the government.”

  Lord Alistair raised his eyebrows. “Even a government that has made it a point to destroy our faith? Even a government that’s a rebellion itself?”

  Lord Emilin sighed as if he’d had this conversation with Lord Alistair one too many times. “I know King Respen isn’t the best king, but he is the king that God has placed over us. I won’t rebel against him.”

  A few of the other noblemen nodded. Renna hunched in her seat. Was King Respen the government God had placed over Acktar? King Respen had gained his position by rebelling against her uncle and murdering whole families. Was that the government that God wanted them to obey? Or should they fight back to preserve their faith and lives?

  It didn’t matter what she thought. She was under Lord Alistair’s roof, and he’d decided to fight back. Whether that was right or wrong, Renna couldn’t help but be grateful. She and Brandi would be as safe as Lord Alistair, Shadrach, and Leith could make them.

  Lord Alistair stared at Lord Emilin, lines creasing his forehead and around his eyes. “If you don’t fight, you’ll die, and your family with you.”

  Lady Lorraine waved a hand. “I, for one, do not intend to sit back idly while a Blade kills me.”

  “I’m glad to hear it since the Second Blade has been assigned to you.” Lord Alistair rubbed his beard. “He’s skilled at throwing knives.”

  Lady Lorraine’s calm nod amazed Renna. How could the lady be so calm when the Second Blade would be ordered to kill her?

  Lord Alistair met Lord Emilin’s gaze. “What if an heir to King Leon still survived?”

  Lord Emilin glanced at Renna. “Lady Rennelda can’t inherit the throne unless we stretch the inheritance laws.”

  “Which the Council of Nobles has changed in the past so women could inherit estates.” Lord Farthen crossed his arms.

  “Or Henry might have plans to marry her off to his son and claim the throne for himself.” Lord Doughtry rolled his bulk to lean his elbows on the table.

  Was that all Renna was to the nobility in this room? A gateway to the throne? She’d never be able to rule Acktar. She could barely speak in front of this small gathering.

  Lady Lorraine arched an eyebrow at Lord Doughtry. “If you’d used your eyes earlier this evening, you would’ve seen that Shadrach Alistair has interest only for my daughter.”

  Lord Doughtry harrumphed. “He’s an obedient son. He might have interest in your daughter, but he’d place his affections elsewhere if Lord Alistair demanded it.”

  Renna’s face burned. If only she could leave.

  Fire flared in Lord Alistair’s eyes. “My son’s personal business is his own. I have no designs on power. Only justice. My immediate concern is in saving your lives and that is the only plan I have.”

  Renna folded her hands on her blue skirt. Lord Alistair didn’t have any plans to marry her to Shadrach, nor would Shadrach allow it even if he did. Yet, what plans did Lord Alistair have for her? Did he intend to place her on the throne?

  37

  Leith hunkered on the floor and peered through the railing into the entry hall of Walden Manor. Chatter, laughter, and music poured from the parlor.

  Shad stood in front of the door to the dining room, his bow strung and an arrow set on the string. Three other guards paced the hall, preventing Leith and Vane from sneaking any closer. If Vane tried, Shad would put an arrow into him in seconds.

  Perhaps that was the answer. If Leith alerted Shad, they could take Vane out now.

  No, it wouldn’t work. The Second Blade wasn’t as decisive as Vane. He could be swayed into attacking in retaliation by the other Blades. If things went wrong and Vane survived, he’d lead all the Blades in an attack that would leave many nobles and Blades dead.

  “Are you sure there’s no other way into that room?” Vane hissed by Leith’s ear.

  Leith drew back and faced Vane. “That’s the only door. With the guards patrolling as they are, we can’t even get close to a wall.”

  Vane scowled, his blue eyes paling to the color of a mid-winter sky. “Lord Alistair is canny. Let’s see if we can find a bedchamber above the dining room.”

  They slipped down the upstairs corridor. Leith opened the door to Shad’s room. Vane ghosted into the room on his heels. He held his breath as Vane shoved the mountain lion skin aside and pressed his ear to the floor.

  Kneeling, Leith pressed his ear to the floor as well. The voices below were the indistinct tone of thunder on the other side of the mountains. Exactly how it’d been when he and Shad tested it.

  Leith forced a grimace on his face as he sat up. “Trust the Alistairs to put in solid floors.”

  With a curse, Vane pushed himself upright. “Split up. Surely one of the guests has something worthwhile.”

  Leith hated letting Vane wander Walden Manor by himself, but he had to agree. It’d be suspicious otherwise.

  Leith slipped through several rooms. He rifled through a few papers some of the noblemen had left on their desks, but he didn’t find anything that’d be worth mentioning to Vane. Or anything worth not mentioning.

  As he exited one of the guest rooms, he heard a babble of voices in the entry hall below. He peered through the railing. The noblemen and women exited the dining room. Most headed for the parlor, though some turned towards the stairs.

  Leith’s breath caught in his throat as he spotted Renna. A deep blue dress hugged her body while her long, blond hair fell around her shoulders, free of the tight braid she normally wore.

  Pounding footsteps on the stairs jolted him. He slipped into a linen closet, holding the door open a fraction. Lady Alistair passed him, supporting a blond woman whose shaking rattled the pins from her hair. A portly nobleman waddled up the stairs and lumbered down the hall.

  After the bustle died down, he eased from the closet and padded down the hallway. By the door to Renna’s bedchamber, he paused. He heard voices.

  Renna yawned as she shut her door behind her. The dark shadows in her room closed around her.

  Shivering, she rubbed her arms. The goosebumps on her forearms scratched against the palms of her hands. All that talk of Blades and assassinations had gone to her head.

  She tiptoed across her room to her dressing table. Pausing in front of it, she reached for her necklace clasp.

  A shadow, blacker than the night around her, filled the mirror behind her. Before she had a chance to scream, a hand pressed over her mouth. The blade of a knife stroked her exposed throat.

  In the mirror, she met the First Blade’s pale blue eyes. His teeth glinted as he smiled. “Soon. Very soon.”

  She trembled in his grip. Not again. Why did the First Blade have to keep tormenting her like this?

  He can’t kill you until King Respen gives the order. Leith’s words echoed in her head. Her heart still pounded, her body still seizured with shaking, but she could think and thinking told her that Vane wasn’t going to kill her this time.

  She eased her hand towards the heavy jewelry box on the corner of the dressing table. She needed a distraction. Wiggling her mouth free, she didn’t have to fake the quaver in her voice. “Don’t hurt me.”

  He leaned closer, his breath hot on her neck. “Your mother only pleaded for her children. Touching, perhaps, but I like my targets whimpering for mercy. It�
��s so much more satisfying when I don’t give it to them.”

  Images of that night tore through her. Her mother’s last kiss. The knowing, sad look in her eyes. The moment the Blade dragged his knife across her throat and met Renna’s gaze with a promise. He’d kill her someday.

  Her fingers closed around the jewelry box. She drew in a deep breath and steeled herself to smash the box into the side of the First Blade’s head.

  “First Blade.” Leith’s voice snapped from the darkness behind them. “Let her go. You’ll get a chance to kill her soon enough.”

  Her heart stopped at Leith’s words. Would the First Blade realize why Leith was protecting her?

  The First Blade gave a small laugh and tossed her away from him. She slid to the floor, the jewelry box clutched in her hand.

  “She’ll tell Lord Alistair about this.”

  She peeked at Leith. He crossed his arms. For a fraction of a moment, his eyes darted her way. She saw a brief softening. Perhaps worry? The flicker had been too quick to tell.

  “More of a challenge.” With one last glance at Renna, the First Blade sidled out the door.

  Leith reached for the door handle to follow.

  “Leith.” His name whispered from her before she’d given it much thought. But before he left, before he returned to the darkness of Nalgar Castle, she had to tell him what she’d realized during that gathering.

  He halted and turned towards her. Her heart pattered a strange rhythm, so loud and aching she barely heard her own words. “I trust you.”

  His green eyes widened, and he dipped his chin. As he disappeared out the door, something clunked to the carpet.

  When her room remained silent and her shaking drained into the floor, she picked up the object he’d dropped. The sheathed knife gleamed in the moonlight pooling on the floor. She traced the initials LT inscribed on the hilt, a silent promise that he’d protect her.

  Her fingers closed around the hilt. When the First Blade returned, she’d be armed with more than just a jewelry box.

  38

  Renna meandered the stone paths through the red columbine and pink trefoil, the thick, sweet smell of the blooming flower garden hard to breathe.

  Brushing through the vines covering the white trellis, she stopped at the open area Leith had transformed into a vegetable garden. Rows of seedlings burst from the ground.

  Renna knelt and touched one of the small stalks of corn, a lump curling in her throat. After all his work, Leith didn’t even get to see the results.

  A weed sprouted next to the corn, already towering over it. In another few days, the weed would overtake the small stalk and snuff it out. She yanked the weed from the ground and tossed it aside.

  Dirt pressed under her fingernails. She let herself simply move, not thinking, not feeling, as she worked her way down the row. Here she didn’t have to be Lady Faythe or a possible heir to the throne or a pawn in anyone’s strategy.

  “You don’t have to weed. I’m sure we can find someone else to do it.”

  She started and nearly toppled onto a corn stalk. She gulped in a deep breath and glanced at Shadrach. “I enjoy it. It gives me something to do.”

  Shadrach knelt a few feet away and plucked the weeds. An easy silence fell around them. Somewhere in the distance she could hear Brandi’s voice chattering to someone. A stablehand. Or Abigail.

  The sun warmed her back, and if she closed her eyes, she could smell the plants growing, green and bursting with the hope of life for one summer.

  She sneaked a glance at him. “Jolene and her mother leave safely?”

  A red tinge splotched the edges of his face as he concentrated intently on pulling a weed from the ground. “Yes.”

  “Jolene’s nice. She helped me do my hair for your sister’s party.” She smoothed a stalk’s tiny leaf between her thumb and forefinger. “She’s good for you.”

  A grin shot across Shadrach’s face. “Thanks.”

  That word settled on her with a sweet finality. But that was all right. He was a friend and always would be. Perhaps someday she’d visit Walden Manor so her children could play with his as her parents had once done.

  A smile tugged at her mouth. “Did you see the eyes Lydia was making at Lord Creston at her party?”

  “What? She’s not even sixteen yet.” Shadrach glared at the weed in his hand.

  “She will be in two weeks.” Renna restrained herself from a Brandi eyeroll. “He’s her age. And already the lord of Arroway.”

  Shadrach muttered and yanked at another handful of weeds. Renna grinned and continued weeding.

  When she reached the end of the row, she paused. Rocks piled at the corner of the garden with a single rock placed on the western side. “What’s this doing here?”

  Shadrach’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Leith piled the stones like that to let me know the Blades had left. When they move, I’ll know Leith has returned.”

  He didn’t have to explain further. When Leith returned, he’d be under orders from King Respen to kill Lord Alistair. If the First Blade was with him, he’d be unable to warn them in person. A pile of stones was their solution.

  “Do you think he’s all right?” The question burst out before she could stop it. She wasn’t sure why she worried about Leith. Surely he could take care of himself. Still, she couldn’t banish the niggling flurry in the pit of her stomach.

  Shadrach glanced in the direction of Nalgar Castle. “Depends if Respen believes him or not. Pray for him. He is going to need the wisdom of Solomon and the courage of Daniel when he faces Respen to give his report.”

  Renna nodded. Prayer was one thing she could do.

  39

  He slipped across the room. On the bed, Brandi slept, basking in a pool of moonlight. Her hair spread out on her pillow in wild abandon. As he reached the side of the bed, her eyes fluttered open. She glanced up, and smiled.

  Her smile froze, changing to confusion when she saw the knife he gripped in his hand. She was too confused to even scream as the knife plunged down. Only then did her eyes fill with pain, her blood pumping onto the blankets.

  He turned to the next bed. Renna was already awake. She didn’t scream, though her eyes fixed on her sister’s body. Her expression was resigned, as if accepting that her death was inevitable.

  He raised the knife. Moonlight glinted on blood.

  Leith bolted upright, shaking and sweating. Another nightmare. The darkness clawed at him, seeking a crack to fill his body. He fumbled to light the lamp. The flame flared, banishing the darkness to the corners.

  He swung his legs over the edge of the cot, leaned his elbows on his knees, and fought to keep his stomach where it belonged. He touched his side, feeling the ridge of his scar through his shirt. If he hadn’t been wounded and stumbled onto their doorstep, he might’ve killed them. Even if he didn’t kill them with his own hands, he wouldn’t have prevented the Blade that did.

  Leith heaved a long sigh. He wasn’t ready to sleep. That Bible from Walden would’ve been a nice distraction.

  He bowed his head. Why had his first thought been that Bible? He should go down to the common room. Surely he could find a practice fight to join even at this time of night.

  He didn’t belong here anymore. More than that, he didn’t want to belong here anymore. If he could, he’d pack his things, saddle Blizzard, and ride away, never to return.

  But if he did that, his blood would stain the castle walls in a slow death, and he’d be unable to help Lord Alistair, Shad, Renna, Brandi, and everyone King Respen would kill to maintain his power. He had to stay. Soon Lord Alistair would help him leave. He only had to survive until then.

  If he had the courage to do so.

  What had Shad told him about courage? True courage came from God, and God only granted it to His people.

  Could Shad be right? Had God chosen him? Loved him? Adopted him as a son? Leith didn’t dare reach for it, only to find it was a dream that his hand passed through like mist. His father
’s love had been like that.

  You can’t compare God to your father.

  He rubbed his hand on the forearm he’d once broken. He’d come at it from the wrong direction all along. He’d compared God to his father when he should’ve compared his father to God.

  A comparison his father failed.

  If God wasn’t like his father, then what? It seemed impossible that God could forgive the things he’d done, but he’d thought it impossible that Renna would forgive him, and she’d done it.

  Could Leith trust? Did he dare?

  He did dare. He wasn’t sure when he’d decided, as if his decision happened between heartbeats. One moment he was hesitating and the next he was sure.

  How could he hesitate? If God had chosen him and already worked in his heart, there was nothing left for him to do. No reason to hesitate or wait for the right moment.

  Leith had nothing to do at all.

  He leaned against the wall beside his bed. The darkness of the room didn’t go away. But he didn’t fear it. Blowing out his lamp, he lay back in bed, closed his eyes, and slipped into a peaceful sleep.

  40

  Leith woke with his stomach twisted in knots. If he were in Walden, he’d join the church service this morning. He might even attempt to sing along.

  Did Respen purposefully pick Sunday to meet with his Blades? It was as if he’d claimed the Lord’s Day as his own, turning the day of worship into a day of death.

  At five minutes to eight, Leith joined the other Blades as they filed into the meeting room. Darkness prowled the corners beyond the meager light of the candles. Its musty breath brushed against the back of Leith’s neck. His hair prickled. God…Father…grant me courage.

  Forcing his hands to remain steady, Leith hung his weapons on his peg near the door and slid into his seat. The other silent shadows slid into their seats around him. No one spoke, and, once seated, no one moved.