Destroy: (The Blades of Acktar 3.5)

by Tricia Mingerink

  The captain nudged her. “Cry and grip his body like you’re grieving. Make sure his face is covered.”

  Addie swallowed and pressed her face against the back of Prince Keevan’s nightshirt. Cry? Could she cry on demand? She closed her eyes and dredged up the images she’d seen tonight. The young Prince Duncan’s body so brutally murdered. Prince Keevan’s choking, which still continued beneath her ear. All the blood. Too much blood.

  What if this was one of her brothers? What if Brennen or Samuel lay under one of those blankets?

  A cold settled into her chest. Her family. She’d been so focused on the tragedy happening to the royal family it hadn’t occurred to her that her family was also in danger. Surely those black-clad assassins wouldn’t attack a family of maids and stable boys, would they? The murders were only confined to the royal and noble wings of the castle. Only to those who really mattered.

  Mama. Papa. Her brothers and sisters.

  Tears pricked her eyes, and she forced a moan from her chest.

  The captain set out down the corridor again, this time at a shuffling pace, his head hanging. Addie hunched over Prince Keevan’s head and back, doing her best to sound distraught. A few of the noble women and their servants glanced their way, but only briefly.

  That was the whole point. If the captain had barreled down this passageway looking like he was in a hurry, he would’ve drawn attention. But an army captain with a grieving girl and a dead body drew no more attention than any of the other crying, sobbing, wailing, weeping people around them. No one even looked at Prince Keevan, as if they couldn’t bring themselves to confront yet another death.

  At the far end of the corridor, the captain glanced around, then ducked into a curtained alcove. Addie followed a moment later.

  The soldier who’d been sent for a rope waited next to the open window, the rope slung over his shoulder. When he spotted the captain, he stiffened and saluted. “A rope as ordered, sir. Arlo is below. He was only able to smuggle out one horse.”

  The captain sighed, then strangely enough, glanced at Addie. “I see. We’ll make it work.” He laid Prince Keevan on the windowseat, turned to Addie, and gripped her shoulders.

  She stiffened at the weight of the captain’s hands. What else would he want from her? She’d helped with Prince Keevan. She’d done more than her job. Now, everything in her coiled to dash to her family’s rooms in the servants’ quarters and see if they were all right. They were probably worried sick over her. Would her papa and brothers go looking for her? What if they ran into one of those assassins?

  “Addie Croft, I need to beg your help once again. With only one horse, someone will have to ride double with the prince, and to keep from burdening the horse overmuch, the person has to be small and light.”

  She might be a scullery maid, but even she was smart enough to see that between her and the men facing her, she was by far the lightest and smallest. “B-but I don’t really know how to ride a horse or where to go or…”

  “If the prince wakes, I’m sure he’ll help. But I can’t trust anyone other than my six men and you. You’re all we have.” The captain tightened his grip on her shoulders. “I wouldn’t ask if I thought there was a better way. But more weight on the horse would only slow it down, and right now, the prince’s life depends on speed.”

  Prince Keevan’s life depended on her. No, all of Acktar depended on her.

  She couldn’t do this. This was ridiculous to even consider. She was just a scullery maid. Daughter of a long line of scullery maids. Plots and murders, destinies of kingdoms, all things for leaders and royalty to worry about.

  But the king was dead. The whole royal family was dead except for the prince lying before her fighting for each breath through his damaged throat. If the wailing and grief in the corridor behind them was any proof, then many of the nobles who’d come for the Gathering were also dead.

  There was no one else. Just her.

  On a night like this, perhaps it made sense. If the world could be turned so upside down, perhaps a scullery maid could become important.

  Tonight, men had died trying to protect the royal family. She could do no less than her duty for her prince. She forced herself to stand straighter. “All right. Where do you want me to take him?”

  The captain glanced toward the window. Deep night wrapped around the castle, the stars faded in the brilliance of the moonlight. “Prince Keevan’s uncle and aunt live in Stetterly, but I doubt the prince would survive the five or six day ride. There are several towns within a day from here, but I wouldn’t dare trust any of them. Not yet.” The captain sighed and turned back to her, lines etched into his face. “Right now, the only town I’d trust besides Stetterly would be Walden. The heir of Walden, Lord Henry, is good friends with Lord Faythe of Stetterly. Surely he and his father remain loyal to the prince, if anyone still does.”

  Walden. Addie tried to picture the map of Acktar she’d glimpsed hanging on various walls in the castle. Too bad she’d never paid much attention to them. She’d never set foot outside Nalgar Castle before. Her parents had never set foot outside Nalgar. A tremor started in her knees. “How do I get to Walden?”

  The captain produced a compass and held it flat on his palm. When the needle halted, he lined it up with the marking for north. He pointed at a marking between the north and east lines. “Head in this direction, and you’ll reach Walden. Avoid all other towns and the roads. You can’t be seen. The town of Walden lies where the Spires Canyon meets the foothills of the Sheered Rock Hills. If you miss the town, you can always either follow the foothills east or the canyon north until you reach it.”

  At least she’d know if she missed her mark or traveled too far. All she had to do was follow that little tick mark on the compass. She shivered. If she messed up, she and the prince would wander the endless prairie, lost until some traveler stumbled across their bones.

  The captain gave her a few more instructions on picking a point on the horizon to make sure she stayed in a straight line and how to avoid being seen. “Do you understand? Repeat my instructions and show me the mark you have to follow on the compass.”

  Addie pointed at the mark and repeated his words.

  Apparently she got it right, because the captain nodded and pressed the compass into her hand. “When you reach Walden, tell no one but Lord Henry who you have with you.”

  “How will I get him to see me? I’m just a scullery maid.” Addie slipped the compass into her pocket with her sewing kit and flint.

  “Tell him you have a message for him from Captain Uriah Stewart at Nalgar Castle. He won’t recognize my name, but he will probably see you, if only out of curiosity.” Captain Stewart reached for the rope and looped it around Prince Keevan. “As far as I know, I’m now the highest ranking commander at Nalgar. All the generals were killed.”

  Addie pressed her fists against her sides. Truly no one was safe at Nalgar Castle. Not in this chaos. “My family. They’ll be worried about me.”

  Captain Stewart finished tying the rope onto Prince Keevan. He and the soldier lifted the prince over the windowsill and lowered him down the wall. “My men and I will stay here as long as we can to help others escape and tend to a few details. Tell Lord Henry I will send the survivors of the army and those still loyal to the royal line to Walden when I can help them escape.”

  Addie nodded and stepped aside while Captain Stewart and the soldier lowered Prince Keevan down to the waiting horse and soldier. She ran all the instructions through her head again. Remember the correct mark on the compass. Don’t let anyone see the prince. Don’t tell anyone about the prince except Lord Henry, heir to Walden.

  Too soon, the rope returned, and she looped it around herself. Climbing onto the windowsill, she balanced on the ledge. The prairie flowed dark into the star-specked horizon, vast and empty. Could she really manage to find her way to Walden all by herself?

  “Remember to hobble the horse at night. You know how to saddle it, right?”

&n
bsp; Addie craned her neck to look over her shoulder at Captain Stewart. The rope cut into her ribs. “Yes.”

  Well, she was pretty sure. Her brothers had shown her how to do it. Once. A long time ago, before she’d started her job as a scullery maid.

  Captain Stewart flexed his fingers on the rope. “Get as far from Nalgar as you can before you rest. I don’t know if Lord Felix will send out parties searching for those who might have fled.”

  “All right.” No, not all right. Not all right at all. But Addie nodded and pushed off from the wall anyway.

  The rope cinched under her legs, as if she sat in the rope swing her brothers had once rigged in the castle stables before the head stablehand caught them. She gripped the rope and closed her eyes. This was a whole lot higher than the hayloft.

  She sank foot by foot, her back sliding against the rough stones of the castle wall. A particularly sharp one scratched her arm.

  But she didn’t open her eyes or release her grip on the rope. She’d rather take the pain of bumping over the stones than risk losing her balance and falling.

  “I got you, miss.”

  She peeled her eyes open. Her feet dangled only a few inches over the ground, and a blond-haired soldier gripped the rope above her head as if to steady it for her. Clambering free of the rope, she dropped to the ground and tottered over to the horse.

  Prince Keevan already slumped over the saddlehorn, a rope running around his waist tying him to the saddle.

  If the soldier wondered why Captain Stewart was sending a random girl along with Prince Keevan, he didn’t mention it. He simply boosted her up behind Prince Keevan and handed her the reins.

  The horse sidestepped beneath her, as if uncomfortable with her added weight. Addie gripped the rope around Prince Keevan’s waist and tried to peer around his shoulder to see the horse’s head.

  The soldier grabbed the horse’s bridle and patted its neck. “I got what supplies I could. Sorry it isn’t much.”

  “It’ll be fine.” Not really. Addie didn’t have a clue what she was doing, but for some reason, everyone seemed to think she’d be fine. She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out the compass. Holding it flat on her hand, she waited until the needle stopped moving, then fixed her eyes on the hill in the distance that lined up with the correct mark. With her direction set, she stuffed the compass back into her pocket and gripped the reins and rope. “I’m ready.”

  “Our prayers ride with you.” The soldier stepped back, let go of the bridle, and swatted the horse’s rump.

  If not for her grip on the rope, Addie would’ve tumbled right off the back of the horse. As it was, Prince Keevan’s head flopped back and clunked against her forehead.

  The horse charged into the star-strewn night and waves of moon-painted grass. She was so busy hanging on, trying to keep the horse going in the right direction, and steadying Prince Keevan’s head, that she missed her chance to look back at Nalgar Castle.

  Her home had disappeared behind her, and she hadn’t even had a chance for goodbye.

  3

  Keevan woke to pain slicing across his face and neck. He blinked, but something white fluttered over one of his eyes, blocking the sight of the clear dome of blue sky far above him.

  The taste of blood filled his mouth, but fire ripped apart his throat when he swallowed. He groaned, but nothing but a wispy gurgle came out, along with another shaft of pain.

  Why had this happened? Keevan squeezed his eyes shut. It was all so random. A black-clad stranger broke into his room and tried to kill him. Why? Why?

  What about Keevan’s family? Another pain, deeper than the gash across his face, stabbed through his chest. Father. Mother. Aengus, Rorin, Duncan. Had the black-clad stranger hurt any of them?

  But if they were fine, then what was he doing under this open sky with a rough blanket wrapped around him?

  He couldn’t think about it. His family had to be all right. Some of them had to be. Perhaps he was the only one targeted, and this was the best way to keep him safe.

  Turning his head shot pain through his face and neck, and he could only manage a few inches before the pain became too much.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a girl sleeping a few feet away. She curled in a ball, the wool blanket cocooned around her so only her face and mass of brown hair peeked over the edge. A strand of hair fluttered each time she huffed out a breath.

  She’d saved his life. That was the only thing he could be certain of this morning. He’d been alone, choking on his own blood and dying, when she’d appeared, her dress and hair sparkling with moonlight as she leaned over him. Almost like an angel, until her hands pressed pain into his wound.

  He didn’t even know her name.

  What was he doing with her? He glanced around, but he couldn’t see anything else other than a single horse wandering a few yards away. If he’d been sent away, where were the guards? What in Acktar was he doing on the middle of the prairie with no one besides a girl?

  She snorted, rolled, and bolted upright. Her hair mashed against her head on one side and stuck out on the other. She scrubbed her eyes and stretched, pulling the linen of her brown dress taut around her body. He should look away, but he couldn’t seem to find the energy…or the will power.

  No, he did have the will power. He’d spent a year trying not to be the same boy he’d been.

  He tore his gaze away and focused on her face, on the red sleep lines etched into her cheek and the way her nose curved upward at the end.

  With one last groan, she glanced at him and froze, one arm still stuck in the air, the other crooked behind her head. A red tint blotched across her nose and cheeks. She lowered her arms and tugged on her dress to straighten it. “Good morning, Your Highness. Did you sleep all right? How’re you feeling?”

  He opened his mouth and tried to force his throat to form words. Pain speared the back of his throat. Nothing more than air hissed out.

  He couldn’t talk.

  Had that assassin’s knife stolen his voice? Had he survived only to live like this the rest of his life? Silent?

  “You look a little better. And you aren’t choking and gagging anymore. That’s a good thing.” She scooched closer and leaned over him. Strands of her hair fell on his face, and he found himself staring up at…he yanked his mind back from the direction it had been headed. He had to be better than this.

  Her bottom lip stuck out in what he could only guess was a grimace. “I should get a proper bandage on that. Maybe the saddlebags have a medical kit.”

  She stood and careened to a horse cropping on grass a few yards away. Hopefully she knew more about tending wounds than he did. She returned with the entire saddlebag. Plunking it on the ground next to him, she rifled through it. “Good, there’s food in here. Though I doubt he can eat it, and I can’t risk a fire. He’s probably not hungry anyway. Let’s see…”

  She talked to herself. Perfect. Keevan squinted. Had she forgotten he was here? Her constant muttering was already getting annoying, especially since he couldn’t interrupt her.

  Still nattering to herself, she yanked out a wad of bandages and a jar that looked like it might contain salve. Kneeling next to his face, she tugged on the fabric.

  Pain tore across his face. He sucked in a breath and knocked her hand away. So much for knowledge of healing. Why couldn’t she have been the castle healer? Or the healer’s trainee?

  She rocked back on her heels. “That’s not going to work. Maybe water will help. It works on dried eggs.” She shot to her feet and dashed toward the horse.

  Now his face was dried egg? Keevan could think of a dozen people he would rather have with him than this…maid.

  She returned, carrying a canteen. Her mouth and eyebrows puckering into frowns, she poured water across the bandage stuck to his face. As she tugged on the damp bandages, he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t even cry out at the pain.

  “Sorry, sorry. I know this hurts. I’m so sorry.”

  Her ba
bbling grated, but he didn’t have the voice to tell her to stop nor the strength to press his hand to her mouth. At least his annoyance distracted him from the pain of ripping scabs.

  “Last piece…here we go…got it!” The girl held up a bloodied scrap of what looked like bedsheet. When she glanced down at him again, her face drained of color. “Eww...I can see…” She jumped to her feet, dashed a few yards away, and crashed to her knees in the tall grass, her shoulders and back heaving.

  Of course she’d have a weak stomach. He tried to peer down at himself, but he couldn’t see much of his face or neck. Just a patch of blurry red at the edge of his vision when he craned his eyes downward. He could only imagine what she’d seen to set her to gagging.

  After several minutes, she straightened, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. She stalked to him and knelt. “All right. I can do this. I don’t have a choice, do I?”

  Neither did he, apparently. He tried to hold still as she spread some kind of salve over his face and neck, laid a thick pad of linen bandages over the wounds, and wrapped part of his head and neck with more linen.

  She gave him water and set to work packing their things. “We need to get moving. We can’t risk that someone might be following us.”

  If only he could ask where they were going.

  If only he could ask why.

  If only he could speak.

  He could refuse to move. For all he knew, she was kidnapping him or she was in league with that green-eyed boy in black.

  Except she had saved his life. And right now, she was his only means to get somewhere, wherever that somewhere happened to be. He simply had to trust her.

  He pushed himself onto his elbows. His head spun.

  The girl crashed to her knees beside him. “Be careful. Are you sure you should get up?”

  He ignored her and managed to push himself all the way into a sitting position.

  “Fine. I guess you might as well get up. I was wondering how I’d get you onto the horse all by myself. Though, you’d better not pass out.” The girl gripped his arm and yanked like she intended to rip his arm off.