“Don’t look back.” He fake-sneezed, making sure Harley’s focus remained in front of her. “There are five men behind us as you described. They probably want to make sure we’re not up to any trouble.” Not likely. Otherwise, they would have approached Ackley by now and confronted him.
“If soldiers are following us, they should recognize me.”
Since Harley was dressed as a commoner, her hair in disarray, and her face free from dusting powder, Ackley doubted they would recognize her. Given her current state, they wouldn’t believe a word she said. “How far until we reach your parents’ estate?”
“It’s the next one.” She nodded at the private road thirty yards away.
Ackley had a knife in each boot, one small sword along his back, a dagger up each sleeve, and a sword hidden in his bedroll that was tucked inside the bag on his back. The soldiers maintained their distance, never getting any closer.
“Should I ask them what they want?” Harley inquired.
“No.”
As they neared the turn-off to her parents’ home, Ackley noted the large tree at the corner of the property—a perfect spot for someone to hide in. Someone with a bow. He would have to eliminate that person before taking out the soldiers behind him. Which meant he had a solid six seconds to strike the man in the tree, two seconds to throw his second dagger at one of the soldiers, then three seconds to withdraw his knives, throwing each of them. At that point, the last two men would be upon him. He could easily handle that many at once. The issue would be making sure Harley wasn’t harmed or taken during the mild altercation.
Now for the real dilemma. Under normal circumstances, he’d kill these men without hesitation. However, this wasn’t his kingdom, these men should be on their side, and Harley’s low opinion of him being a brute assassin would be confirmed. Not that he cared what she thought of him, but he wasn’t only a killer. And he only killed when necessary. That was what he needed to show her.
He would have to incapacitate the men instead of killing them then, which made his job infinitely more difficult. No matter. He thought through his plan one more time, imagining the hits, strikes, and moves he needed to make in order to injure without killing.
“When I tell you to,” he whispered to Harley, “drop to the ground and remain there.”
“Of course.” She didn’t even ask a single question or argue.
Sliding the daggers from his sleeves, he placed one in each palm, needing to throw them just the right way so the hilt would hit each man instead of the blade. “Now.” Ackley threw his dagger at what he hoped was the archer’s head. Then he whirled and flung his second dagger at the man on the far left. Withdrawing his two knives, he aimed for the foreheads of the two men in the middle, the hilts striking them. Three of his five pursuers were on the ground, moaning. He chanced a glance back. The archer had fallen from the tree and was holding his leg, his bow snapped in two.
The last two men rushed at him. He ditched his bag then ran at them, wanting to stop the men before they got too close to Harley. When almost upon them, he spun and kicked, hitting the man on the left. As he did so, he grabbed the other man, twisting his arm back, then flipping him on the ground. With all five lying on the road groaning, he went back for his bag, looking for his rope. He found it, then tied the men up.
“Harley.”
Sitting, she observed the sight before her. “Are they dead?”
“No, not one.”
He stalked over to the archer and grabbed the collar of the man’s shirt, dragging him to the others. After tying him up, Ackley clutched a fistful of the archer’s hair, forcing the man to look at him. “Why were you in the tree?”
The man spat at Ackley.
Using his arm, he wiped the spit from his chest, then pulled the short sword at his back, pressing the tip to the man’s groin. Ackley narrowed his eyes and hardened his face.
The man flinched. “I was told to shoot anyone who approached.” Sweat coated his forehead as he tried scooting backward.
Ackley pressed the sword harder, and the man froze. “Who gave you that order?”
“My superior.”
Ackley wanted to smack the guy for his non-answer. “And who is your superior?”
“Lieutenant Cliffton.”
“What about the five men who followed us?”
“They are supposed to follow anyone coming into the city.”
Again, a reasonable response given the state of things. “Who gave them that order?”
“Lieutenant Cliffton. He’s been in charge since Captain Lyle left.”
“Why were you up in the tree on this property?”
“Someone of importance lives there. I was asked to protect the property. Look, I just follow my orders, I don’t question them.” His breathing came out short and fast.
“Do you know about the takeover?” Ackley inquired.
“Yes. But Russek never came here.”
Again, a reasonable answer. “Do you know who the false king is?”
“False king?”
“Any idea who’s sitting on the throne?” Ackley pressed the tip of his sword in harder, emphasizing his point.
“No,” the man said, sweat coating his face.
“I’m escorting Lady Harley to her parents’ estate. The very one you appear to be guarding.”
The man’s eyes bulged, and his face blanched.
“I would like to take her inside so she may see her parents.” He scanned the area for additional threats, not seeing any. His gut told him to kill these men since they knew about his abilities. If they meant him or Harley harm, they could return with more soldiers and overpower him. He didn’t want anyone else to know they were here.
“Lady Harley,” he called out, gaining her attention. “Get my bag and head to your parents’ estate. I’ll be along shortly.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked as she stood, brushing herself off.
“I have a few questions for these men.”
She nodded and did as he requested.
As she walked away, he retrieved his weapons from the ground. Once they were all accounted for, he dragged the men off the road and into the nearby field, concealing their bodies in the tall grass.
Harley’s back was to him as she headed toward her parents’ home. Ackley crouched, withdrew his dagger, and severed an artery in each man’s leg so they’d bleed out and die. Ackley wiped the blade in the grass and stood, sheathing it. As the life drained from each of them, he felt a tinge of remorse. However, as he’d been trained, it was kill or be killed. He turned and joined Harley.
“Did you learn anything important?” she asked.
“No.” They walked down the path, nearing her parents’ home. The large stone manor stood before them, smoke rising from one of the chimneys. The longer Ackley was there, the more uneasy he felt. “I’d like to see a map of Penlar. I assume there’s one in the house?” More specifically, he wanted to see how Penlar fit into the kingdom and if it was feasible Russek would have spared it.
“Yes.” The closer they got to the house, the more fidgety Harley became, wringing her hands together, pushing the hair out of her face, and playing with the edges of her sleeves.
When they reached the front door, Ackley took a step back from Harley, gesturing for her to take the lead. She lifted her hand, dropped it back at her side, peered over at Ackley, and then raised her hand again. This time she knocked.
After several tense minutes, the door swung open, and an elderly woman dressed as a servant stood there. “Lady Harley?”
“Carietta!” Harley stepped inside, hugging the woman.
When Harley released her, the woman took a step back. “It’s good to see you, Lady Harley. We all thought you were dead.”
So they knew about the takeover then. Ackley tried to keep his face impassive.
“Are my parents here?” Harley’s voice wobbled as she spoke.
Carietta looked Ackley over, scanning him from head to toe before ans
wering, “Your parents are here. Come inside.”
Ackley followed a few feet behind Harley as they were led down a long hallway. The walls contained portraits, several of which were faded, indicating how old they were. Five suits of armor, one between each portrait, were on the left side of the hallway. On the right side, several sconces had been lit, illuminating the way.
Carietta opened a door on the left, ushering them into a grand sitting room. Tall windows framed by heavy drapes covered the right wall. Several sofas facing one another were situated in the middle of the room before a large hearth, a fire roaring in it. Tapestries covered the left wall. A small round table stood in one of the corners, a game of chess on it.
“Please have a seat,” Carietta said. “I’ll bring some refreshments.”
After she left, Ackley turned to face Harley.
Tears filled her eyes. “They’re alive.”
Ackley scanned the room again, taking note of all entrances and exits. He had a bad feeling about this.
Harley
“May I present Lady Mayle,” Carietta announced from the doorway.
Harley turned to face her mother, who wore a beautiful emerald green dress, her hair braided atop her head. As always, Lady Mayle’s appearance reflected her station and rank. Harley curtseyed. It took every ounce of strength she had not to run and hug her mother. However, her mother always insisted she behave as she should at all times, regardless of emotion.
“I’d like you to meet my escort, Prince Ackley of Marsden.” Harley gracefully gestured toward Ackley, curious to see how’d he’d act. So far, she’d seen him as an assassin and a soldier, not a prince.
“Lady Mayle.” He didn’t bow or lower his head since he was a higher rank than her.
“Where’s Father?” Harley asked, glancing behind her mother.
Lady Mayle looked from Harley to Ackley and then back again. “He’s not feeling well.” Wringing her hands together, she glided farther into the room, her head held high but her arms trembling. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” She kissed Harley’s cheek, then took a seat on the sofa. “You look and smell like you’ve slept with pigs. Why are you dressed like a commoner?”
Harley thought her mother would be happy to see her, not questioning her appearance. Perhaps her mother didn’t know what happened throughout the kingdom. Or maybe Penlar had been spared completely. “Did you hear what transpired at the castle?”
Lady Mayle focused on her hands, not looking Harley’s way. “I have,” she whispered.
“Only a few cities survived,” Harley said, hoping her mother would explain what had happened here.
“Thankfully, Captain Lyle didn’t take many of his men with him to the castle. When word came that the Russek army was marching this way, we had ample soldiers to protect us. Russek just passed right on by. There wasn’t even a scuffle.”
Harley sat beside her mother, taking her hand and squeezing it. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but Lyle is dead.” Still no sadness gripped her at the mention of her husband’s passing.
“He’s dead?” Lady Mayle asked.
Harley nodded.
Her mother tilted her head to the side, as if trying to figure something out. She was probably trying to ascertain how upset Harley was over the matter. But she need not worry.
With that out of the way, Harley attempted to broach the subject of her brother. “And…” She couldn’t even bring herself to say Hollis’s name. The pain gripped her heart and made it hard to breathe.
“And Commander Beck?” Lady Mayle asked. “Any news of him?”
Walking over to the chess board, Ackley said, “He hasn’t returned to Melenia if that’s what you’re asking.” He reached down, taking one of the chess pieces and moving it.
Lady Mayle smiled, tears filling her eyes. Harley wanted to ask why she appeared so happy over the news about Commander Beck, but Carietta entered carrying a tray with a pot of tea, three cups, and some treats.
After setting the tray on the low table between the sofas, she asked, “Shall I pour the tea?”
“We’ll see to that, Carietta,” Lady Mayle responded.
The servant curtseyed, then left the room.
Ackley sauntered over to the fireplace, observing the picture of Lord Silas and Lady Mayle hung over the mantle. “You have a quaint country house.”
Lady Mayle’s brow furrowed, and she focused on Ackley. “Where did you say you were from?”
He turned to face her, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “Who are you, exactly? Lady Harley’s grandmother?”
Lady Mayle’s eyes widened in shock, and her right hand flew to her bosom.
Heat crept up Harley’s face, making her want to crawl under the sofa and hide. This was not going well. To take their focus off one another, Harley reached for the tray, pouring the tea. “My mother and father are in charge of this province,” Harley said, knowing Ackley was already aware of it and silently cursing him for choosing to be the arrogant prince today. Just once she would like to see him be charming. If that was even possible.
“Province? We have several of those in my kingdom. We also have people who oversee the provinces who then report to the king.” He plopped on the sofa across from Harley, stretching his arms out across the back.
Harley handed him a cup of tea. He took it, not bringing it to his mouth. Seeing him purposefully not drink the tea made her afraid to take a sip—which was ridiculous. Carietta would never poison their tea. She handed her mother the last cup.
Lady Mayle clasped it, not bothering to take a sip either. “Prince Ackley, how did you come to be here in Melenia with my daughter?”
A cocky smile slid across his face as he leaned forward, setting his cup back on the table, then resting his elbows on his thighs. “I’m from Marsden. I’m here with King Owen as his personal guest.” His smile turned lethal as his eyes locked onto Harley’s mother. A challenge of sorts.
“King Owen?” Lady Mayle asked.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Harley said, exasperated that her mother wasn’t showing more concern over her or even asking about Hollis. Since the moment her mother had entered the room, she’d seemed distracted. As if she had something weighing heavily on her mind or as if someone were even watching her.
“That’s generally how it works,” Ackley interrupted, cutting Harley off. “When the father dies, title and land pass to his son.” He glanced at his fingernails, as if bored. “Unless your kingdom is so archaic that you have another way of doing things?” This time he glanced at Harley, expecting her to answer.
“No, you’re correct,” she said. “That is how succession works here. And yes, King Owen is the legitimate king.” She focused on her mother. “When Russek invaded us, they killed the entire royal family except for Owen.” She took a deep breath, preparing to explain how Hollis had been killed in Owen’s place.
“I thought someone else was sitting on the throne,” Lady Mayle mumbled.
“That’s what we’ve heard,” Ackley said. “Can you imagine King Owen’s shock when he learned a lowly foot soldier had taken up the Melenia throne?”
The only sound in the room was the fire crackling as the wood burned.
Finally, Lady Mayle asked, “Why are you here?” Her focus remained on Ackley.
“We’re just passing through,” Ackley answered nonchalantly.
Harley knew him well enough to know this was all an act. Since Owen had told him that he suspected her parents of something, Ackley must have an idea of what it was. That, coupled with the fact that her mother was behaving strangely, made Harley squirm. She didn’t want to face the possibility that something was amiss here. However, she’d be a fool not to.
“Why is a prince from Marsden here in Melenia? Why are you with my daughter?”
“I’m here because of a new treaty.” He raised a single eyebrow, as if anticipating her response.
“A treaty between whom?” Lady Mayle whispered. “Did Comman
der Beck send you?” Her voice shook.
Instead of answering, Ackley stood. “We need to be on our way if we’re going to reach our destination before nightfall.”
The sky outside had turned dark.
“Where is your destination?” Lady Mayle asked, also standing.
“You don’t need to concern yourself with your daughter. I’ll take good care of her.”
Lady Mayle considered him a long moment before responding, “You can remain here for the night if you so wish.”
“No,” Ackley replied. “That won’t be necessary. I didn’t even want to waste my time stopping here, but Lady Harley insisted.” He glanced around, his face cringing. “Let’s be on our way.” He sauntered from the room. “My men will be wondering where we are.”
Hurrying after him, Harley wasn’t sure if her mother heard that last part, though she assumed Ackley had said it simply for her mother’s benefit. Ackley was a man she couldn’t even begin to comprehend. However, she knew without a doubt that everything he did, he did for a specific reason.
“Can I see Father before we leave?” While she knew his health had been declining, being confined to his room was something new. If she could just see his face, hold his hand, she’d feel better.
“He’s sleeping, and I don’t want to wake him.” Lady Mayle followed them out of the sitting room and down the hallway toward the front door. “But you are welcome to visit with me longer. You don’t need to leave so soon,” she said a little louder than necessary.
Harley glanced over her shoulder at her mother, wondering again about her odd behavior. “Are you all right?”
Lady Mayle pushed a loose strand of hair off her forehead and glanced around, as if expecting to see someone lurking nearby. Lowering her voice, she said, “There are things you don’t know. Factors at play you can’t even begin to comprehend.”
“Tell me,” Harley insisted, taking her mother’s hands in hers.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“I will. Or I’ll try.”
Lady Mayle peered at Ackley. “I’m sorry, Harley. I’m forbidden from telling you.”
Sword of Rage: Reigning Kingdoms, Book 1 Page 15