Actually, it looked a lot like the boy message rider from earlier in the evening…the one who’d gone with Jamie…
Keevan folded his arms tightly against his chest. That had been Brandi. No wonder she’d been so insistent that he had to attack tonight.
He couldn’t dwell on it. Right now, he had to be a king, and a king didn’t have time to grieve or regret too long. Only learn from his mistakes and move on. “Brennen, can you round up some of the men. This boy here,” Keevan pointed at Brandi, “needs to be moved to one of the back rooms in the guest wing. Jamie will want to go along. Once you’re done, meet me in the Tower.”
When Brennen nodded, Keevan headed for the door leading to the Queen’s Court, Patrick at his heels. As he stepped outside, the night drenched him with crisp, fresh air, free of the stench of blood and screams of pain. Far above, a crystalline dome of stars stretched as far and as deep as he could see.
Rounding the corner of the courtyard, Keevan ducked into the passageway and crossed the bridge to the Tower. At the door, he paused. “Stay here. Don’t let anyone besides Brennen and his men come in.”
Patrick eyed him. “You’re going in alone?”
“Frank and Oran should still be in there.” Keevan pushed the door open without waiting for Patrick’s response.
Oran straightened and saluted as Keevan entered. Frank glanced up, then back down at Torren, who lay on a straw tick on the table behind them.
“Oran, report to the healers in the great hall.” Keevan approached the table slowly.
Why the urge to have this moment alone? It wasn’t like Torren was awake, or Keevan was ready for anything resembling forgiveness yet.
“Frank, can you join Patrick guarding the outside door?” Keevan rested his palms against the table next to Torren. “He can fill you in on what’s happening.”
Frank crossed his arms. “And leave you alone?”
“I’m safe here.”
Yes, safe with the man who’d once sliced Keevan’s face and throat. But he was also unconscious and far too hurt to move.
Frank’s and Oran’s footsteps tromped off and the door shut.
And Keevan was alone with Leith Torren for the first time in nearly five years.
Torren lay on a thin mattress. Bandages covered his torso from below his arms all the way to the waistband of his trousers. Another bandage wrapped around his left thigh, this one soaked with blood. Red welts and gashes peeked over Torren’s shoulder. Whiplashes.
Keevan finally understood what the maid Ellenora had seen and meant when she’d faced him only a few weeks ago.
Torren had suffered enough.
Maybe Torren’s other victims would want justice done, but Keevan wouldn’t ask for anything more.
Torren moaned, and his breathing gasped louder.
Keevan froze. Was Torren waking up? Keevan wasn’t sure he was ready to face Torren at this moment.
But Torren’s eyes remained pressed closed, tears leaking from the corners.
Keevan let out a long breath. Torren wasn’t fully unconscious, but he wasn’t going to wake either. He was caught in the between realm of agony, a prison it takes hours, sometimes days, to escape, as Keevan remembered too well.
Another moan. Another shuddering breath.
Keevan hung his head, clenching his fingers against the tabletop. If Torren had been any other wounded soldier, Keevan wouldn’t hesitate. He would’ve already offered what little comfort he could.
Why did it have to be Torren?
Sighing, Keevan located a bucket of fresh water left on the table with a tin cup next to it. Dipping the cup in the water, Keevan returned to Torren’s side, eased a hand beneath his head, and raised the cup. Keevan dribbled the water into Torren’s mouth, waited for him to swallow by reflex, and poured in a few more drops.
Torren’s moans and breathing calmed. Keevan set the cup aside and stepped back.
Not a moment too soon. The door swung open, and Frank and Brennen strode in, followed by two more men carrying a stretcher.
Keevan breathed out slowly, strangely thankful he was the only one who would ever remember these last few minutes.
At the sound of a rider, Addie struggled to her feet. News from the war. Was Keevan alive?
She breathed a prayer, a hand over their unborn child, as the rider slid his horse to a halt in front of the main cabin. He swung down from his horse and held out a letter to her. “For you, milady.”
Addie heard the footsteps of people gathering around her, but she couldn’t look. The papers filled her vision, and her fingers, trembling, were reaching for them even as her heart hammered with the knowledge that the words contained there could build or destroy her life.
She unfolded them. My dearest Addie…
Tears pricked her eyes. He was alive.
Firm hands gripped her shoulders. She glanced up at her papa, one of the few men left behind to guard Eagle Heights. “Keevan’s alive.”
She turned back to Keevan’s letter. I’m alive and unharmed, as are all your brothers, though Samuel was wounded at Walden. We have succeeded in taking Nalgar Castle. By the time you read this, Respen will have been tried and executed.
Please read the enclosed letter to everyone at Eagle Heights.
Addie switched to the second page and a quick scan told her it was an official announcement. She straightened her shoulders and faced the crowd that had gathered in front of her. No need to call them together. They’d already come, at least those living on the mountaintop. She would have to reread the letter to the villages below later.
With a deep breath, she projected her voice as loudly as she could. “By the good pleasure and grace of God, we have gained the victory.”
She had to pause as a cheer rose from the crowd. A release of nearly five years of tension. She couldn’t help a smile. Yes, now was the perfect time to cheer.
“We must mourn for those we have lost, but we must also move on to rebuild Acktar. This country has been torn apart by this war. It would be easy to hang on to the bitterness and hatred that war has caused. But we must let go of our hatred and forgive. It is the only way we can reconcile one half of this nation with the other. Healing will take time, but I believe it is possible.”
Addie let Keevan’s words soak into her. Forgiveness. Healing. That’s what Keevan had needed, and it was now what this country needed.
And he couldn’t do it alone. He needed her.
Addie’s grip tightened on the papers in her hand. She had to be at Keevan’s side right now. For the past two years, she hadn’t been quite sure what it meant to be his princess and future queen. The titles hadn’t held much weight at Eagle Heights.
But Keevan was about to become king. And he needed her at his side. It was something they should do together.
“Papa.” Addie turned. “Can you saddle a horse for me? I’m going to join Keevan.”
“Addie.” Papa stared, his big hands loose at his sides. “It’s too far. And you don’t even know the way.”
“He can take me.” Addie pointed at the rider. She turned to Mama, who threaded her arm through Papa’s. “The baby won’t be born for another month and a half yet. Tell him, Mama. I’ll be fine. We’ll take it slow, as slow as I need to. But I have to go to Nalgar Castle. Keevan can’t do this alone.”
Mama studied her, then patted Papa’s arm. “We’ll all go.”
Over Mama’s shoulder, Addie’s sister-in-law Suzanne gripped her three-year-old and one-year-old sons tighter, her chin raising slightly. Penelope planted her hands on her hips while Juliana stepped closer.
Addie smiled. Yes, they would all go. And they would all stand with Keevan.
Keevan sat behind the desk in the king’s chambers. The same desk where his father used to sit. The same one where Respen had sat only a week before.
The patch of sky visible through the window remained black with nighttime clouds. The lone candle shone an orange glow across the papers scattered on the desk.
Only one signed a
nd sealed paper lay off to the side. The order for Respen’s execution, to be carried out in the morning. That had been the easy piece of paperwork.
Keevan fingered the corner of the sheet of paper in front of him. I, Keevan Eirdon, rightful and recognized heir of the throne of Acktar, hereby pardon the man Leith Torren, former Blade under the traitor Respen Felix, for all the crimes…
He’d been trying for the past hour, but he couldn’t bring himself to sign and seal it. Once he did that, it would be official.
Was this the right thing to do? Keevan would deny justice to Torren’s victims.
When Shadrach had defended Torren, he’d only had to do it in front of Keevan. If Keevan signed this pardon, he would have to defend Torren against the whole country. No, more than that, Keevan would have to balance his throne and future on the sword’s edge for Torren.
Would Torren be worth it?
Shadrach believed he was. As did Lord Alistair.
If Keevan signed and sealed that pardon, he would have to believe it too.
His gaze landed on the other stack of papers. Letters to the families of every man killed fighting for Keevan. They had given their all for him, and a personal letter was the least he could do.
Even if writing the words To the family of Ian McCrae to the family of a dead fourteen-year-old boy, hurt as much as cutting open his own heart and bleeding onto the page.
If Torren hadn’t turned himself in, if he and the Blades who’d joined him hadn’t managed to subdue Respen and the Blades so that Keevan could end the battle that much quicker, how many more fourteen-year-old boys would’ve died? How many more letters would Keevan have had to write then?
To be honest, and Keevan really didn’t want to be honest about this, Leith Torren had saved Acktar.
And for that, what else could Keevan do?
He pushed to his feet, unable to sit still any longer. But pacing back and forth by the window didn’t help. This was about more than just Torren. It was about Keevan’s reign. What kind of king would he be? How would he balance justice and mercy?
Slumping back in his chair, Keevan reached for his Bible next to the candle. The book already lay open, revealing tattered pages and a verse heavily underlined in ink. The king’s heart is in the hand of the Lord.
Keevan had read this part of the Bible so many times, he had all the stories memorized. David, a man after God’s own heart, but also a man who’d fallen much as Keevan had. Solomon, so wise, yet so foolish in wandering away from God near the end of his life. All the kings of those Bible stories who had known the truth but only a handful truly believed and walked in it.
If those kings had struggled to both follow God and be good kings, then how much hope did Keevan have? Was it even possible to be both a good Christian and a good king, especially a king over a country where half the people didn’t have the same beliefs he did? Keevan had to be both just and merciful to all of them, regardless of belief. No, more than that, Keevan was determined to be just and merciful because of his own beliefs.
Keevan read the verse again. He had to commit his heart, life, and reign to God’s hands, not his own.
Folding his hands, Keevan leaned his head on his fingers. Heavenly Father, grant me the wisdom to rule this country. But more than wisdom, keep my heart humble.
Opening his eyes, Keevan pulled the pardon toward him, picked up his pen, and scrawled his signature at the bottom of the page.
16
Traveling for more than two weeks in the saddle while nearly eight months pregnant was about the worst thing Addie had ever experienced, except for the night she’d pressed her fingers to the gaping wound in Keevan’s neck.
But the moment Nalgar Castle peeked over the horizon, it was all worth it.
If Addie had been a little less pregnant, she would’ve kicked the horse into a gallop down the hill to the gate. Instead, she focused on keeping the horse to a walk.
Last time she’d seen Nalgar, she’d ridden away in the middle of the night, a bleeding Prince Keevan held on the saddle in front of her.
Now it was midday, a washed-out summer sun bulging in the sky. The Eirdon banner, a silver cross against a light green background, flapped over each tower. And somewhere in that castle, Addie’s husband was waiting to become king.
At the gate, they reined in their horses. Papa turned to Addie. “It’s your castle.”
Addie stared upward at the soldiers leaning over the battlements. She cupped her hands over her mouth. “Open up for Princess Adelaide Eirdon.”
The soldiers above straightened so fast one of them nearly tripped. The gates swung open, and Addie urged her horse forward into the tunnel through the wall.
As she broke into the sunshine on the other side, squinting, a figure burst from the passageway. Addie barely had time to blink before Keevan was at her horse’s side, gaping up at her. “Addie! What are you…how…”
“I had to come.” Addie forced herself to grin. “Now get me off this horse.”
Addie ran her fingers over the tabletop, its surface extended as far as possible, with extra chairs crowded around it. Another two end tables had been added to either side. Still, it would be crowded once her whole family got here.
Her gaze snagged on the door across the way, the one leading to the bedchamber. That’s where Respen had slept. She shivered. Would she and Keevan now share that room? It didn’t seem right to sleep in the same place where that…that monster had also slept.
“What do you think?” Keevan rested his hands on her shoulders, leaning over to place a kiss on her hair.
“It’s…different than our cabin.” Addie couldn’t face Keevan. She didn’t want to disappoint him.
“But this place reeks of Respen. Even after he’s been dead and buried for weeks.” Keevan rubbed her shoulders. “I’ve been staying in my old room. I’m thinking about turning these rooms into offices for the king’s clerks.”
“And the clerks’ offices in the north wall?” Addie tipped her head back to look at him. The afternoon sun shone along the length of his scar.
Keevan grinned. “Room for a library. Maybe a few other things. I’m sure we’ll think of something. Do you think Papa would like to be in charge of all that? Chief Carpenter, or whatever title I come up with.”
“He’d love it. You know Papa. He would never stay idle when there’s work to be done. He and Mama both.” Addie leaned her head against the back of her chair.
“I know. I thought about giving your parents land and a title. They are the in-laws of the king, after all.” Keevan folded his arms on the back of Addie’s chair, his face tipped down to her so only a few inches separated them.
Addie meant to laugh, but it came out a snort. “They would’ve hated that.”
Keevan straightened and swiped at his face, as if Addie had spewed spit when she’d laughed. She didn’t apologize, and he didn’t mention it. He returned to his place leaning against the back of her chair. “Do you think Mama would like to be the housekeeper here at Nalgar?”
Addie nearly snorted in Keevan’s face again. “All those maids and cooks to boss around? She’d love it. Any plans for the rest of my family? I know Penelope has her sights set on something a little higher than a scullery maid.”
“Not sure about Samuel and Juliana. Brennen, I think, would do well as the head stablehand. Penelope…I’m not sure. Think she’d like to be a clerk? I’m sure there’ll be a few openings once I go through the administrative staff. Most of them used to work for my father. They did their job, and Respen kept them on.” Keevan shrugged. “I’m not sure how many of them I trust.”
“Penelope would like that.” Addie sighed and shifted her head to more comfortably rest against Keevan’s arms.
“She’ll probably have every unattached nobleman in Acktar after her, wanting to be brother-in-law to the king. Your papa and brothers are going to have their hands full.”
Addie closed her eyes. After the long ride, she might just fall asleep in this chair before
her family ever gathered for supper. “I don’t think we have to worry too much about her. She’s too smart to settle for the first nobleman that comes around with fancy words. Papa and Mama raised us better than that.”
“I’m thankful they did.”
Keevan’s voice rasped near Addie’s ear, but she didn’t open her eyes. “So that leaves Frank and Patrick. What about them?”
She sensed Keevan straighten. “The army has always handled security at Nalgar, and the duty fell to whatever ranking captain happened to be stationed here. It was a bit haphazard at best. I’d like to make a more permanent security detail whose sole purpose is to guard Nalgar Castle, and specifically the royal family. I’m planning to ask Frank to lead it, and Patrick to back him up. If Frank doesn’t want to return to his position as your father’s apprentice, of course.”
“Frank’s seen too much now, and he’s always been protective. Taking care of the security for the whole castle sounds like just the job for him. He’d probably do it anyway.” Addie peeled her eyes open.
This was his greatest fear, even more than losing his voice permanently. That someday what had happened to his parents and his brothers could happen to them. And Keevan would do his utmost to prevent it.
Keevan’s hands rested on Addie’s shoulders, his thumbs rubbing at the back of her neck. “Would you rather get some sleep? Your family would understand.”
It was tempting. The next few days would be filled with meeting his cousin Renna and the coronation and settling into a new home at Nalgar.
“I’ll manage to stay awake.” Addie forced herself to sit up a bit straighter. “Besides, I’m not sure I’m ready to be in that room alone yet. You nearly died there. Surely it bothers you too, with that Blade Leith Torren in a room just across the courtyard.”
She shivered, the tips of her fingers cold. She could still feel Keevan’s blood pumping through her fingers, hot and sticky, while he choked for each breath.
“All of these rooms have memories. My brothers died in the rooms next to mine. My parents died in that room over there.” Keevan tilted his head toward the door. “We can’t leave every room in this castle empty. We’ll have to fill them with so much happiness the past won’t matter. Besides, I might’ve nearly died in that room, but it’s also where I met you.”
Destroy: (The Blades of Acktar 3.5) Page 15