She nodded. She took a sip of her water and eyed him. What was he planning?
“The Resistance, as you call it, is founded on the principle that I am not the rightful king of Acktar. I can quench their little rebellion, but it will take years of bloodshed that can be avoided. I had thought to kill you to prevent you from being a rallying point. But I have a better idea.” Respen’s fingers halted their tapping. “I want to marry you.”
Renna choked on her sip of water. She slammed her glass on the table and coughed. When she could breathe again, she gaped at Respen. “Marry you? Why would I ever marry you?”
Her stomach churned. Marry the man responsible for her family’s murders? She’d stood in this very room as he executed Uncle Abel and Aunt Mara. She gripped her glass tighter. She might throw up into it.
“It would solve my problem. Married to you, I would become the rightful king of Acktar. The claim of righteous resistance would be ripped away from the rebel leaders. A few might continue to fight me, but the majority would fall in line. The very principles they fight for now would demand nothing less.” Respen stroked the tablecloth.
Her stomach heaved. Should she try to fight it or make a dash for the window? Closing her eyes, she concentrated on steady, deep breaths.
“Of course, with you as my wife, I might be willing to indulge a few of your peculiarities. I could not continue to persecute Christians if my wife was one, now could I?” A pleased smile slunk across his face.
She bolted upright, her heart pounding. “If I marry you, you’ll stop the persecution? You’ll allow the churches to meet and rebuild? You won’t arrest people for praying or owning a Bible?”
His smile broadened. “Yes, that would be our deal. You marry me, and I’ll stop the persecution.”
She trembled. Could she possibly agree to that? Marry the man who’d killed her parents, aunts and uncles, and cousins? She shuddered at the thought of being near him. As his wife, she’d have to let him kiss her…and more. He was like, fifteen years older than her. Perhaps not old enough to be her father, but old enough to be Brandi’s father. Respen’s son would’ve been about Brandi’s age had he lived.
But how could she possibly say no? She’d be like Esther in the Bible, using her position as queen to save people sentenced to die. She could be a part of rebuilding the churches scattered across Acktar. Surely it was the right thing to do.
Would Respen keep his end of the bargain? What if she married him, then he didn’t keep his promise?
But what would he do if she refused? He couldn’t kill her because he needed her to lure Leith back to the castle. That wouldn’t stop him from torturing her. Or perhaps he’d set up her execution to force Leith to return?
She had to swallow several times before she could speak without retching. “Could I have some time to think about it?”
“Of course. Something this momentous should not be done lightly.” He stood, strode to the door, and opened it. “Second Blade Hamish.”
Martyn stepped into the room and saluted. “Yes, my king?”
“Return Lady Faythe to her new quarters. Instruct the servants that she is to be provided with everything she desires.” Respen turned to Renna and bowed. “She is to be treated as my future queen.”
She stared at him and pressed her hands over her mouth to hold in the meal she’d just eaten.
Respen’s slick smile skittered chills across her skin. “You will agree eventually. After all, sacrifice is the foundation of your faith, is it not?”
As Martyn helped her to her feet, Renna’s heart sank into her toes. He was right. She was called to self-sacrifice. Even if that meant marrying King Respen.
7
As the half-moon joined the stars sprinkled across the deep blue sky, Leith urged Blizzard forward. His horse picked his way down ever smaller rocky slopes. At the base of one hill, they paused by a creek. While Blizzard drank, Leith filled his canteen. Bending over, he drank as well. This was the last clean, flowing water before the Waste.
When Blizzard finished, Leith groaned as he hauled himself back into the saddle. Exhaustion pressed against his eyes, but he couldn’t allow himself and Blizzard more time to rest. Three Blades had followed him when he’d split away from Shad and the others. Now that he was alone, they’d stepped up their game. They were no longer content to simply track him. Now they hunted him.
If they caught him and dragged him back to Nalgar Castle, Respen wouldn’t have any reason to keep Renna alive. Leith had to ride harder. He slept only three hours at a time with a few brief stops during the day to allow Blizzard to drink and graze.
By the time the sun tickled the horizon, Leith exited the foothills and rode onto the expanse of prairie stretching between the Sheered Rock Hills and the Waste. Five pronghorns bounced over the shorn grass and far in the distance, a herd of bison flowed across the horizon. A few yards away, a prairie dog chittered a warning and dove into its hole.
Midafternoon, Leith glanced back. Three black shapes of men on horseback exited the Hills behind him. He had less than half a day lead on his pursuers. He faced forward. In the distance, a line of cliffs sliced across the prairie. The Ramparts, the entrance to the Waste.
After a few hours rest by a rock outcropping, Leith pushed Blizzard onward until they reached the foot of the Ramparts as the setting sun coated the crumbling grey ridge in orange and gold. Dismounting, Leith led Blizzard along the base of the jagged peaks. He and Harrison Vane had explored this region for then Lord Respen Felix. When they’d left, Leith had hoped never to enter the Waste again.
Leith halted before a gap in the wall of rock. This was it. The Waste.
He stroked Blizzard’s nose. If only he could leave his horse here and not drag him into the desert with him. But he couldn’t leave Blizzard behind. If he did that, he’d never be able to catch the horse again to return to Shad and the others after he exited the Waste. Nor would Leith put it past the pursuing Blades to hurt Blizzard if they got a chance.
A winding trail slithered between the peaks. Blizzard balked at the narrow opening, but Leith tugged him forward. The powdery stone crumbled beneath Leith’s boots. Blizzard snorted and pranced nervously as his hooves sank into the dust. The grey-purple peaks jabbed the sky on either side in piles of decaying, porous rock. When Leith placed a hand on the side of the stone next him, bits of it burst into dust against his fingers.
The gap meandered between the jagged cliffs before disgorging him onto a desolate plain. Desiccated grass poked through the ashy ground, dried husks waiting for the next rainstorm to revive them for a few precious days. To his right and left, the plain dissolved into gullies and dry washes carved in the last, barely-remembered rain. Ahead, the ground folded into trackless ridges, the last rays of the sun burning on the tips.
Leith scrubbed Blizzard’s neck. “That’s where we’re headed, boy. Straight east.”
He swung onto his horse and let Blizzard choose their path. Occassionally, a strip of dry, nearly dead prairie swathed the space between the mounds of rock. He spotted a lizard sunning itself on a rock, but it was the only sign of life. Even the breeze no longer gasped, leaving the crumbling stone aching with silence.
As darkness settled, Leith walked Blizzard forward. He couldn’t ride at night. Blizzard could be injured in the shifting sands and treacherous holes. Better if Leith tested the ground first. But he couldn’t take the time to stop and rest for the whole night. The Blades would push on through the darkness as they had on the prairie. Besides, at this time of year, he’d have to rest during the hottest hours of the day.
He slogged through the scraping grass and the crumbling soil. The aloof stars and later the cold moon provided feeble light for him to stumble by.
Midway through the night, Leith allowed himself a brief rest. Pouring an inch of water into his cooking pot, he held it for Blizzard to drink. His horse slurped up the water, then licked the pot, his tongue grating against the cast iron, until every drop was gone. Leith returned the
pot to his pack while Blizzard craned his neck around, ears twitching as he searched for more water.
Leith rubbed the horse’s nose. “I’m sorry. No more water for now. We have to make it last as long as possible.”
He dug out a slice of bread for himself and munched it down, the bread sticking to his throat and teeth. Allowing himself a few mouthfuls of water, he held the liquid on his tongue, soaking, savoring, until he swallowed.
How far would he have to go to outrun his hunters? If they’d stopped at the edge of the Waste to wait for him there, then he wouldn’t have to go far into the Waste before circling around and exiting the Waste through a gap to the north. None of the Blades tracking him had traveled through the Waste before. Odds were they wouldn’t spot the gap that Leith and Vane had stumbled across when they’d explored this region.
But if the Blades followed Leith into the Waste, he’d have to outlast and outdistance them as he circled around. They’d be forced to either turn around or die. In either case, Leith would be free to circle back and return to Shad without the Blades following him.
Somehow, he’d have to make his small supply of water last long enough to keep him and Blizzard alive. It was all the water he had. Even if he stumbled across water in the Waste, he wouldn’t be able to drink it. All the water in the Waste was contaminated with the dust and minerals from the rocks. Even boiling couldn’t cleanse it.
At least he had more water than the Blades hunting him. While he was well prepared with a waterskin and three canteens for him and Blizzard, they had no warning and no time to prepare. They’d have only three, maybe four, canteens for three men and three horses.
Leith could outlast them, but he still might end up dead. The Waste could claim him just as easily as the Blades.
He blew out a long breath. His life belonged to God, even here. He wouldn’t die until God’s time, whenever that was. He could only pray it wasn’t soon. Renna depended on him.
Pushing himself upright, he picked up Blizzard’s reins and kept plodding forward, keeping an eye on the stars. He couldn’t let himself get turned around. It’d waste time and allow his pursuers to catch him, and he’d be unable to find his way back to the Sheered Rock Hills.
Dawn rose with a timid hush. Leith closed his eyes at the first caress of sunlight on his face and breathed in the sweet smell of morning.
Onward. Ever onward. The miles blurred into mindless, trudging steps. Sometimes walking, sometimes riding. All around, the peaks—sliced with bands of red, orange, pink, and purple as if the stone couldn’t decide which color to wear—rolled away into a forsaken landscape. The air that touched his face stank with dust and heat like the fetid breath of some poisonous beast.
Still he and Blizzard trudged onward. He wrapped his extra shirt over his head to give his face and neck some protection from the merciless sun. His nose still crinkled with burned skin.
That afternoon, Leith halted Blizzard on the eastern side of one of the slopes where the height of the peak and a stand of dried brush provided some shade. After he pulled the saddle from Blizzard’s back, the horse rolled on the ground, scrubbing his sweat-soaked back against the grey pebbles. The dust mixed with the globs of sweat, covering Blizzard in a layer of quickly drying mud.
After giving Blizzard more water, Leith left him to graze on a patch of spiky grass and scrabbled up the grey-purple slope, diggings his fingers into the porous rock. At the top, he sank onto his stomach and peered back the way he’d come.
After a few minutes, two black dots trudged from a gap between two mounds of rock. At the base of the mound, one plopped to the ground, the other joining him a moment later.
They must’ve left one of the Blades to guard the edge of the Waste in case Leith circled back while the other two chased him. A good plan, except that Leith didn’t intend to leave by that gap.
Leith slid down the slope and lay beneath the scrub brush to catch a few hours of rest before he pushed on and, hopefully, lengthened his lead until they were out of sight. This chase was no longer a sprint. It was an endurance race.
8
Brandi landed in the dirt on her rump. A stick jabbed her ribs as she sprawled on her back. “I’m never going to get this.”
Jamie reached out a hand. “You’re getting better. It takes time. Remember, I’ve been training since I was eleven.”
She rolled her eyes and pushed herself to her feet. After three nights of training with Jamie, her body ached with bruises. A small cut on one of her arms throbbed.
But she couldn’t give up. She had to get good enough to rescue Renna. How she planned to do that…well, the plan could come later.
She adjusted her grip on the knife, shifted her weight to the balls of her feet, and eyed Jamie. “All right. Again.”
Jamie rushed at her, knife outthrust. Brandi swiveled as they’d been practicing and shoved his knife-arm away from her body. As the knife passed inches from her waist, she stabbed forward with her knife, stepping in to push Jamie off balance.
He sidestepped and smacked her hand away. She avoided his attempt to hook a leg behind one of her knees and twisted her grip on his knife-hand. He moved with her, trying to get her off balance.
She matched his move and felt Jamie’s balance falter. Finally. She’d done it. She’d…
Jamie let go and sidestepped. Her momentum tossed her forward. Jamie tapped her spine with his knife.
Brandi sighed. She was hopeless at this. How was she ever going to rescue Renna if she couldn’t last two seconds in a fight?
Jamie sheathed his knife. “Let’s take a break from knife work for a while.”
“Good, I need a rest.”
“We’re not resting.” Jamie dropped to his hands and knees, then stretched out his legs. “We need to work on your strength.”
Brandi groaned. It’d be so much easier if she was a boy and had muscles and strength and stuff. Jamie put her through exercises until she flopped on the ground, her clothes soaked with more sweat than she’d thought her body capable of producing. “I’m done.”
He flopped onto the ground beside her. At least he was panting and covered in sweat from doing the exercises with her. The first day, he hadn’t even been tired when she’d called it quits.
She stared at the scraps of sky visible between the tree branches. The evening twilight had faded into night, and the stars brightened to their full twinkle overhead. A crisp taste of cold and pine crackled in the air, the mountain night colder than the summer nights she had experienced in Stetterly when the darkness had only hushed the day’s hot breath.
Several yards away, the fire danced to the murmer of the adults’ voices, too low for her to hear what they said over the treefrogs and nightbirds.
The silence tore at her. She didn’t like silence. It had worries and fears and all the things she’d spent years pretending not to feel. Forcing a lighthearted smile on her face, she propped herself up on her elbow. “Where do you see yourself in the future?”
Jamie locked his fingers together and placed them behind his head. His brown curls twined over his hands. He looked kind of cute like that, lounging on the ground with the starlight creating interesting shadows around his eyes and mouth. “Where do I see myself if we survive long enough to have a future?”
Brandi nodded. Perhaps it was foolish thinking about the future at the present moment, but she couldn’t help her curiosity. “Let’s say you live. What would you want to do?”
He stared at the stars for so long Brandi wasn’t sure he’d answer. Eventually, he glanced her way, two stars reflected in his eyes. “Until recently, I thought I’d be a Blade until I messed up or refused to kill, and Respen killed me. Since Leith got me out of there…I don’t know. I guess I haven’t had the time to think about it.” He gave a long sigh and drew up one of his knees. “But, if God does have me survive, I guess I want to do something for Him. I’m not sure what, but I want to do something meaningful that helps people like me who are angry at God for a while and don
’t know how to make it better.”
Brandi rested her head in her hands. His answer made her insides hurt. That’s what she’d wanted. She wasn’t a healer like Renna, but she had wanted to help people anyways. But now…she bit her lip. She was the one angry at God and didn’t know how to make it better.
“What about you?” Jamie’s voice sliced into her thoughts. “Where do you see yourself in the future?”
She shrugged. “On an adventure, I guess. I was always kind of restless at Stetterly. Do you know what I mean? Renna was scared of everything. I don’t want to be like that. I want to go out and experience the world and travel all over Acktar.”
Jamie rolled upright. “Well, your future is already here then. You’re on an adventure and traveling Acktar.”
Brandi sat up, tucked her knees to her chest, and hugged them. “It’s not nearly as fun as I imagined.”
He gave a snort that might’ve been a laugh had their topic been less sober. “I’m sure you didn’t imagine bruises.”
She felt her mouth twitch. “And I didn’t imagine bugs or dirt or lack of baths.” Funny how her daydreams never included aching muscles and buzzing mosquitoes. How naïve had she been? She hadn’t known anything back then. The world seemed like a cheery, sunny place. But now she’d seen the darkness lurking in Acktar.
She rested her head on her knees. In the darkness of Nalgar Castle, King Respen had tempted her to doubt her faith in a way she’d never been tempted before.
And he’d succeeded. She swallowed at the tears she’d walled away the moment Leith tore her away from Renna. Trusting God used to be so easy. Sure, her parents’ deaths had been hard, but she hadn’t seen what Renna had. She hadn’t even realized what was going on until afterwards. Uncle Abel, Aunt Mara, and Renna had taken so much of the grief for her that she hadn’t had to bear the burden of it. It had just seemed easier to be the happy one and let Renna doing all the worrying.
Defy (The Blades of Acktar Book 3) Page 5