“Fine. If you want to help, fetch lots of cold water. If you can scrounge up any laudanum, get it.” Renna couldn’t keep the bite out of her words.
“I sent Ranson and Blane for supplies. I’d better help.” Martyn bobbed his head and stumbled from the room.
Renna retrieved the basin, pitcher, and pewter cup from their stand. Pouring some of the water into the basin, she tested it with her finger. Cold. At least Martyn had done a decent job of bringing Leith fresh water every day.
Filling the tin cup, she slid a hand under Leith’s head. “Here. Take a few sips. You must be thirsty.”
He gulped at the water but coughed after a few swallows.
“Easy. Not so fast.” She soaked one of the few cloths leftover from yesterday and placed it still dripping across one of the burns.
Leith cried out and turned his face away from her. He sucked ragged breaths between his teeth. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, mingling with the trails of sweat on his face. He probably didn’t even realize the tears were there. “Sorry. I shouldn’t…”
“Ssh.” Renna drew in a deep breath and willed away her trembling. She couldn’t break. Not now. Placing her hand on Leith’s cheek, she tipped his head toward her. “You’ve been strong enough. It’s my turn now. I can handle it. Now I need you to take deep breaths, all right?”
He nodded, squeezed his eyes shut, and drew in several deep breaths until his breathing steadied.
She dipped the cloth back in the water and placed it on another burn. Leith flinched but didn’t cry out this time.
He slitted his eyes open and laid his hand over hers. “Respen knows. He figured out our plan.”
She let out a slow breath. Shouldn’t she be scared at hearing those words? But she wasn’t. Maybe she’d faced death too many times already. Perhaps she’d always known they wouldn’t live long enough to be rescued.
She threaded her fingers through his. “At least neither of us is going to die alone.”
Leith squeezed her hand. “You might survive. I’m not sure if it’ll be enough to spare you, but I saw something in Respen today. He could’ve tortured you to make me talk, but he didn’t.”
“I remind him of Clarisse, his wife. She died years ago.”
She had made an impression on Respen after all. It probably wouldn’t be enough to prevent Respen from killing her. He’d come close to having her beheaded.
Or had he? Had he counted on Leith saving her? What would he have done if Leith hadn’t shown up? Would Respen have stepped in before the ax fell?
Whatever his motives, Respen wouldn’t subject her to the same torture as Leith. Small comfort, but at least she’d be whole enough to care for Leith until the end came for both of them.
She rubbed the back of Leith’s hand. Death wasn’t far away. Respen would kill them before Keevan’s army arrived. If Leith’s estimates were correct, then they had only days. Even if Respen didn’t kill her, he’d force her to watch him kill Leith.
She couldn’t waste a minute, especially not with fear. She’d rejoice in the little moments, like this one now, that she had left to enjoy.
Perhaps it was the knowledge of death that gave her a heady sense of boldness. Maybe it was the longing for the things she’d never have. Resting a hand against Leith’s cheek, she leaned over and kissed him. His mouth was still swollen from his beating the day before, his breath hot with the fire that had eaten at his skin. His fingers tangled in her hair, shooting tingles down her back.
He pulled away first, gasping. “Can’t…breathe…”
“Sorry.” She straightened. She’d accidentally leaned an elbow on his chest. What was she thinking? Here he was, barely conscious, and instead of tending to the burns, she kissed him.
He dragged in several gulps of air before he turned back to her. With a hand on the back of her neck, he tugged her down for another kiss. This time, Renna kept her elbows planted on the bed.
By the time she leaned back again, she was breathless and light headed. Leith glanced over her shoulder, and his smile widened. “We’re making Martyn uncomfortable.”
Renna huffed and sat back on her heels. “He deserves to be uncomfortable.”
She turned to Martyn, who hesitated in the doorway like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to bolt or interrupt or just lose the contents of his stomach right there on the floor. He carried a bucket in one hand and a bundle of clean cloths in the other.
Behind him, Ranson gripped the handle of another bucket while the other Blade, Blane, held a tray with medical supplies. Both of the younger Blades gaped like they’d never seen anyone kiss before.
Red-faced, Martyn tiptoed into the room and dropped the bucket and cloths next to Renna. “I…forgot something.” He pelted from the room like she might start kissing him in a minute.
Ranson shuffled forward and set his bucket next to Martyn’s. His hands trembled. He opened his mouth but snapped it closed again. Apparently he was still following Martyn’s orders not to speak with her.
“Thank you.” Renna soaked several cloths in the bucket of cold water and placed them on Leith’s burns.
Leith closed his eyes. His body sagged into the cot. “That feels good.”
Blane set the tray on the end table. Unlike Ranson, his hands remained steady. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Can you give him the laudanum? Just a spoonful.”
Blane nodded, knelt, and reached for the vial. After pouring a spoonful, he lifted Leith’s head and gave him the medicine. Blane grabbed the cup Renna had set aside and held it to Leith’s mouth.
Leith gulped several times. Some of the water dribbled around the edge of the cup and over his chin.
When Leith had finished, Blane laid him back down. “Would you like more?”
“No.” Leith tipped his head toward Blane. “I should’ve gotten you and Ranson out like I did Jamie. I’m sorry I didn’t.”
Renna glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of Ranson’s wet eyes a moment before he slid to the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees.
“I’m glad you got Jamie out.” Blane reached for another cloth, soaked it in the bucket, and placed it across one of the burns.
“Look out for Ranson. Watch each other’s backs.” Leith’s eyes fluttered closed. His muscles relaxed beneath Renna’s hand as the drug took effect. “If you get a chance, you get Ranson out. Shadrach Alistair will help you.”
Renna swallowed at the lump in her throat. Leith was saying goodbye, giving Blane and Ranson last instructions. Would they listen?
Blane froze and shot a glance at Ranson. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Leith didn’t move in response. His chest rose and fell in a steadier rhythm than before.
Renna kept replacing the cloths with wet, cold ones. After half an hour, she took stock of the burns. Some of them had formed red, puffy blisters. Painful, but as long as the blister didn’t burst, she wouldn’t need to tend them further.
The rest—the deeper burns—were pale with dead skin and splotched red. Pale liquid oozed from the open wounds.
After some convincing, she managed to borrow a knife from Martyn after he cleaned it with alcohol for her. She cut away the dead skin, filled the burns with salve, and placed bandages over them.
Standing, she rubbed her knees and glared at Martyn. “He’s going to need lots of fresh water. And the bandages will need to be changed several times today. Not that it really matters. Respen is going to just hurt him worse again tomorrow.”
Martyn scrubbed his hand through his hair. “We’ll take care of it. I’ll fetch you when it’s time to change the bandages.” He drew in a deep breath, and his face hardened back into that of the First Blade. “Eighth and Ninth Blades, the trainee could use some practice. See to it.”
“Yes, First Blade.” Blane thumped his fist across his chest. Ranson did the same a moment later. They hurried from the room, though both of them glanced at Leith before they left.
“I
guess I’d better return to my room.” Renna rested her hand on Leith’s shoulder for a moment. His skin still flared hot, sticky with sweat. A tear trickled down one of his cheeks.
She turned away and strode into her room. As soon as Martyn locked the door behind her, she leaned against the wall separating her and Leith. She removed the loose stone and listened to the steady sound of Leith’s breathing.
As long as she could hear him breathe, he was all right. It wouldn’t last, but for now, it was enough.
42
As morning broke over the battlefield, Brandi cracked her eyes open. Her muscles groaned. Aching her way to her feet, she stared at the hill above Walden. Bodies still sprawled where they had fallen. In the flat area at the base of the hill, a few tents had been set up in the middle of rows of men. How many of them were still waiting for someone to tend them?
She shivered and rubbed her upper arms. Sunlight didn’t make death look any better.
Shaking herself, she grabbed breakfast and checked on Blizzard. The wound remained hot and swollen. He stood on three legs with his injured leg resting on a hooftip.
Jamie stopped next to her and scrubbed Blizzard’s neck. “You know we’ll have to leave him. He’d never keep up, and he’d hurt himself worse if we forced him to try.”
She nodded, biting back tears, while she slid her hand over the horse’s nose. She’d known it the moment she’d seen the wound, as much as she’d wanted to deny it. When the army moved out, she’d have to abandon Blizzard here.
Would Blizzard heal? Or would he die? Horses couldn’t live on three legs. They needed to move to stay healthy.
If she left him, would he die all alone?
Brandi leaned her face against Blizzard’s neck, soaking in the warmth of his sleek fur. The scent of horse, normally a sweet smell, held a sour taste today. The smell of a horse in distress.
Blizzard swiveled his head, nibbled on the edge of her shirt, and stared at her with his big, liquid eye.
“Are you telling me it’s all right to go, boy?” She scrubbed his neck. His ears twitched.
A bugle sounded, calling the army to assemble. Brandi straightened her clothes and lined up with Jamie and Ian in Shad’s division.
Shad called them to attention as General Stewart strode from the command tent and eyed the army. “Men, we gained a victory yesterday, but that’s one battle in this war. Mourn the friends we lost, then move on. Gather your things. We move out in an hour. Lord Alistair and the survivors of Walden have agreed to stay behind to finish burying the dead and tend those too wounded to continue.”
General Stewart waved at a figure standing a few feet behind him. Lord Alistair stepped forward. His gray-streaked beard straggled across his gaunt cheeks. He leaned on a cane, and one arm rested in a sling. But his eyes still burned.
If Lord Alistair and his men could hold out for weeks against Respen’s army, maybe Leith and Renna could survive too.
General Stewart clasped his hands behind his back. “Riders have already been sent to Ably and Calloday to see if those lords would join us once they realize that the true king of Acktar has returned. We should hear their responses shortly. Now that we have entered Acktar, riders must be sent to Dently. Captain Alistair, please select a pair of boys from your division and have them step forward.”
Shad spun on his heels. Scanning the assembled men, he pointed at Jamie and then at Brandi. “You two, step forward.”
Brandi kept her eyes facing forward as she strode to the front of the group with Jamie. As the smallest “boy” in the division, she’d be the lightest. Her weight wouldn’t tire the horse out as quickly as one of the larger boys. Jamie was also slim of build and his experience as a Blade trainee would get them through safely and quickly.
“Do you both have fast horses?” Shad stood straight and expressionless, all commanding and whatnot. Of course, in front of all the men, Shad couldn’t be anything less than official.
Brandi shot a glance towards Jamie before facing forward. Her dirty face and short hair might fool Shad since he wasn’t looking at her too closely, but her voice would be difficult to disguise, even talking deeper.
Jamie cleared his throat. “My horse is fast, sir, but Randy’s horse was injured yesterday.”
Shad nodded. “You’ll be issued a new one. We captured several in the battle yesterday.” He handed a folded and sealed paper to Jamie. “Give this letter to Lady Emilin.”
Jamie and Brandi nodded. Lord Emilin had been killed by a Blade a few months ago when he’d refused to take any sort of action against King Respen, even to safe his own life from assassination. Perhaps his widow would be more willing now.
“Yes, sir.” Jamie tapped two fingers against his forehead. Brandi did the same a second later.
“Gather your things. Dismissed.”
Jamie and Brandi returned to their camp and rolled their bedrolls. Brandi glanced at Jamie. “You didn’t object to me being placed on this assignment.”
He shrugged. “You’re a good rider. And I think you’ll be safer on this mission than sticking with the army. They’ll be fighting for every mile on the way to Nalgar Castle.”
She swallowed and tied her bedroll with the leather straps. Respen’s army wouldn’t make it easy. Keevan wouldn’t be sending out riders to ask for more allies if he didn’t think he’d need the extra men to take the castle.
Ian strolled over and slapped both their backs. “Be careful. Don’t run into any Blades.”
“You too.” Jamie returned the gesture.
Brandi swallowed. Would Ian be all right? He’d ride into battle without Jamie and Brandi to watch his back. Would he survive by himself?
Two soldiers walked up leading three horses. Brandi threw her saddle onto a slim, brown mare and picked a small black horse for her spare. Jamie tied the lead of the second spare horse to his saddle.
As the soldiers began to walk away, Jamie held out a hand. “Wait. Can you take this horse to Lord Alistair?” He pointed at Blizzard.
One of the soldiers raised his eyebrows, but he nodded.
Brandi checked Blizzard’s wound one last time and hugged him around the neck. “You take care of yourself, Blizzard.”
The horse nudged her, as if telling her to go. He’d be all right.
Blinking at tears, Brandi handed Blizzard’s lead to the soldier, swung onto the brown horse, and nudged it into a trot, Blizzard’s parting whinny echoing in her ears.
43
Pain throbbed through Leith’s skull. He groaned and shifted. Shafts of pain slashed through his chest. Spots of stabbing agony seared across his stomach and chest. He ground his teeth and tried to draw in a deep breath, but more pain choked his lungs.
Something cold pressed against the side of his head. Achingly cold. He tried to turn his head away, but the cold stayed.
“Sssh. Lie still.” A soft touch stroked his forehead.
Leith peeled his eyes open. Colors swirled above him. He blinked several times until the forms solidified into shapes that remained blurry around the edges.
Renna sat with her back to the wall, one hand on his forehead, the other pressing something cold and wet to the side of his skull. Only then did he realize she cradled his head on her lap. He worked his tongue free from the roof of his mouth. “What happened?”
“You took a nasty beating, including a blow to your head that knocked you out. You’ve been out for half an hour.” Renna shifted the cold and wet rag from the side of his head. Her fingers trailed over the spot. “You have a large lump on the side of your head. Martyn even fetched ice for me.”
Leith sucked in a breath and winced as pain shot through his head and chest. He tried to remember, but his head slogged through mush. “I don’t remember much.”
It must’ve been bad, though, to make Martyn trek all the way from the Blades’ Tower, through the castle, into the kitchens, and beg for ice from the cook, who had the key to the iceroom.
Renna frowned. “Do you have a headache? I
s your vision blurry?”
“Yes. Both.” Leith squeezed his eyes shut and tried to draw in a deep breath. Agony tightened his chest.
“A mild head injury.” She pressed the cold cloth back to his head. “And a few cracked ribs. I think with a little rest your blurry vision and headache should fade.”
He tried to move, but weakness filled every inch of his body. A moan built in his chest and slipped out his teeth before he could bite it back.
“I’m sorry. You’ve had too much laudanum in the last few days as it is. I can’t give you any more. Blane is making willow bark tea.” Renna stroked his forehead. “Martyn, can you hand me a cup of water?”
Leith could barely hear the scuffing of footsteps over the ringing in his ears. A few minutes later, Martyn entered Leith’s line of sight. Even with Leith’s blurry sight, Martyn’s face appeared pale. He handed Renna a cup. She raised his head and pressed the cup to Leith’s mouth.
His throat tightened with thirst. But his stomach knotted until he wasn’t sure he could even hold water down. After a few swallows, he turned his face away.
“Come on, Leith. Just a little more. With those burns, you need lots of water.”
For Renna, he’d do about anything. His stomach churned, but he forced each mouthful down until the cup was empty.
“I’ll fetch the tea.” Martyn straightened.
“Let Blane and Ranson know Leith’s awake.”
If Martyn replied, Leith didn’t hear it. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing past the haze of pain.
He shouldn’t lie here like this. He should sit up. He should be the one comforting Renna and being strong for her.
But he was broken. His energy drained out of him. He didn’t know how much strength he had left.
Renna laced her fingers between his. The touch sent tingles through his arm. He shouldn’t, but he drew on her strength.
“How did Ranson become a higher Blade than Blane?”
Talking. A distraction from the pain. Leith struggled to gather his thoughts, scattered with the ringing and throbbing and the feel of her hand in his. It’d been a year ago. Two fifteen-year-olds, neither one ready. But when Respen had handed Ranson a knife, Blane had offered to kill too to give Ranson the courage to do it.
Defy (The Blades of Acktar Book 3) Page 25