Uncle Abel glanced at Brandi, then tightened his hug. “We won’t be back. Acktar is getting too dangerous for you and Brandi to stay here much longer. Lord Alistair will send you to the Resistance hideout in the Sheered Rock Hills. And we’ll stay at Stetterly.”
A shiver raced along Renna’s skin. Uncle Abel and Aunt Mara planned to stand with the town until the end.
Shouldn’t that be Renna’s duty? Lady Lorraine had been the last to leave Sierra. If the war came to Walden, Lord Alistair would do the same. Yet, Renna had been the first to flee.
Tears burned her throat. Would this war ever end? Would she and Brandi see Uncle Abel and Aunt Mara again? She buried her face against Uncle Abel’s shoulder. “I’ll miss you.”
“And we’ll miss you.” Uncle Abel’s voice cracked. He held her for several minutes until he pulled away to hug Brandi.
Renna wrapped her arms around Aunt Mara. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
“Me too, dear.” Aunt Mara gripped Renna tighter. “Take care of yourself and Brandi.”
“I will.”
Nothing more to be said. No more hugs. Uncle Abel and Aunt Mara swung onto the mules, and Uncle Abel grabbed the lead for Ginger. Too soon, the mules trotted from the yard and up the hill, disappearing into black dots over the horizon.
Brandi swiped at her eyes. When she turned to Renna, her smile wobbled across her face. “I’m going to the stables for a while.”
She trudged toward the building. Renna took one step to follow her, but that Blade trainee, Jamie, trailed after Brandi. He seemed like a nice enough boy, and Leith trusted him, so Renna left them alone. Sometimes, a friend could help more than a sister.
Renna slipped into the flower garden and sat on a stone bench next to the fountain in the center. An inch of water lay still and hot in the bottom, the rest of the fountain silent and dry. At this part of the summer, Lord Alistair wouldn’t waste the water to keep his fountain going when the crops needed the water more. Around her, the flowers that had bloomed so vibrantly a few weeks ago had dried into husks. Only the prairie daisies and bluebells continued to bloom.
A footfall crunched on the pebbled path winding through the garden. She turned and spotted Leith, dressed in the dust-colored homespun he wore for his peasant’s disguise, shifting from foot to foot a few yards away. Had he purposely made noise so as not to startle her?
“Are you all right?” His green eyes flitted over her, as if he wanted to meet her gaze yet didn’t dare.
She drew her feet onto the bench and hugged her knees. “Not really.”
Leith eased onto the rim of the fountain a couple of feet away. It couldn’t have been comfortable perching on the scalloped rim, and if she’d attempted it, she would’ve overbalanced and landed on her back in the scummy water on the bottom.
Perhaps she should offer him the seat next to her on the bench. It would be the nice thing to do.
But the more she thought about doing it, having Leith sit so close to her she’d feel the heat radiating from his skin and see the lines of color threading through his green eyes, her breath caught and her own skin flashed as hot as the pebbles baking in the noon sun.
Whatever this feeling—attraction or love or something in between—it was getting worse.
Leith ducked his head. “No, of course you aren’t all right. I just meant…I wanted to make sure…” He shook his head, his knuckles whitening against the lip of the fountain.
She ran her tongue across the backs of her teeth. Of all the people at Walden, he’d been the one to come after her. Not Lydia. Not Jolene. Not even Shadrach. But Leith.
What should she say? What could she say that wouldn’t come out strange as the patter in her chest?
She studied the scuffed leather tips of her shoes peeking from under her skirt. A different sort of weight dropped into her stomach. “I feel like I’m losing my family all over again. I know I’m not the only one. So many people are leaving their homes and losing loved ones. When will it end?”
“I don’t know.” When Renna risked a peek, Leith’s head hung. “Shad would have some sort of wise answer.”
“Or Brandi would come up with some Bible story for this.” Renna wiggled her toes and watched the cracks in her leather shoes widen and close. “She’s probably telling one to Jamie right now.”
They lapsed into silence. Renna rocked back and forth, but the motion didn’t inspire her tongue. What should she say to him? Or should she say anything? Why wasn’t her tongue—or brain—working?
He stood and jabbed his thumb towards the flat area where Walden’s soldiers gathered for drill. “Lord Alistair asked that Jamie and I join drills, and I probably should go.”
Renna dropped her feet to the cobbled path. Aunt Mara and Uncle Abel wouldn’t want her to spend all day moping. If she couldn’t stand strong with Stetterly, she should at least accomplish her small duty as a healer here. “And I should get back to helping the healer.”
When she glanced up, Leith had his hand held out to her. “Can I walk you inside?”
She placed her hand in his to let him pull her to her feet. His hand was rough with callouses across his palm and the pads of his fingers. A shock traveled up her arm and curled in the pit of her stomach.
His grip was strong. Sure.
Safe.
11
Leith adjusted his grip on the wooden sword he’d been given. The guardsman he’d been assigned as a sparring partner stepped forward and swung his wooden sword at Leith’s head.
Leith tried to lift his sword, but the unfamiliar weight on his wrist tugged the sword half-out of his grasp. Ducking, he managed to block the blow, but the force sent his wooden sword spinning from his hand. It clunked to the ground, the wooden blade thwacking his shin on the way down.
He sucked in a breath and shook his fingers. Good thing this wasn’t Respen’s version of learning weaponry, or he’d be using a real sword. He’d be missing his leg from the knee down.
His left arm ached with the weight of the small shield he carried. The nearly healed wound in his shoulder twinged every time he’d been forced to raise that shield to block a blow.
“You almost had it that time.” The guardsman picked up Leith’s fallen practice sword and handed it to him. “You have a good sense of balance and a good eye for fighting techniques. You just can’t seem to handle a sword for some reason.”
Plenty of reasons, but Leith couldn’t explain. Of course he had good fighting instincts. He was a trained fighter. But not with a sword.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Shad’s gaze. A hint of a smirk played at the corner of his mouth. Payback for all of the times Leith had laughed when Shad had attempted to learn knife-fighting.
Payback Leith deserved. He hadn’t gone easy on Shad.
A crack cut the air next to him. Jamie raised his practice sword again and parried a guardsman’s thrust.
After a week of drilling, Jamie could hold his own during the basic maneuvers. Leith grimaced. He had knife-fighting ingrained into his muscles and memory for nine years. Jamie only had two years of training. Not so much to unlearn.
Not that Leith really wanted to unlearn his knife-fighting skills. This was only a ruse, both for the men around him and the Blades lurking at the edge of the Sheered Rock Hills. To these guards, he was nothing more than the peasant Daniel. To the Blades, he supposedly dressed as a peasant and participated in drill to count Walden’s guards, assess their level of training, and discover Vane’s whereabouts.
As Leith gritted his teeth and raised the sword again, a dust cloud to the south drew his attention. Not big enough to be Respen’s army. Perhaps several riders or one rider coming in fast.
Shad turned to the dust cloud as well. When a single dot solidified over the crest, Shad faced the drilling guards. “Dismissed. Get cleaned up, grab something to eat, and take an hour’s rest before reporting to the ditch digging crew.”
Leith handed his practice sword to Jamie. “Can you retu
rn my sword too?”
Jamie nodded and took the sword. Leith slipped away from the rest of the guards. Entering the flower garden, he tiptoed along the paths until he reached the study’s broad window.
A few minutes later, one of the panes swung open. After a glance around, Leith boosted himself through the window and onto the windowseat. Shad swung the window closed even before Leith had rolled into a crouch on the floor.
The study door gave a tiny creak. Leith pressed into the shadow next to the curtains. Lord Alistair’s voice boomed inside. “Shad?”
“Just checking that the window is secure.” Shad locked it. As he turned, he shot a smirk in Leith’s direction. “We wouldn’t want any Blades to get in.”
Leith fought to hold a scowl on his face.
Shad strode across the alcove and drew the curtains closed behind him. Leith peered around the edge of the curtain as Lord Alistair waved a slim, dust-covered man to a seat. The man still huffed and tottered, the glass of water in his hand spilling down his arm.
Lord Alistair steepled his fingers. “Take your time and catch your breath.”
The rider slurped water between gulps of air. He plunked the glass onto the oak desk. “I swung towards Keestone as instructed.”
Lord Alistair moved the glass to a stack of papers and swiped at the ring of water it had left on the desktop with his sleeve. “What did you learn?”
“Clarbon was overrun a week ago. Lord Hartley was killed, but he and his men bought enough time for his family to flee to Keestone.”
Leith flinched. Clarbon attacked. A lord killed. He hadn’t warned them in time.
He’d failed. Again.
“As I rode past, Keestone was under attack.” The rider scratched at his hair. Dust trickled down his neck. “It won’t hold, but I ran into a rider from Duelstone. Most of the citizens of Keestone got out and Lord Farthen has some sort of plan to fall back to Duelstone and from there to Uster. Refugees from Clarbon, Keestone, Duelstone, and Uster are headed to Walden as we speak.”
Lord Alistair tapped his fingers against his chin. “We’ll be ready.”
“I swung by Mountainwood on the way back. I spotted most of the northern part of the army, with reinforcements from Mountainwood, swinging south. They’ll probably meet up with the southern army at Duelstone.”
Some good news at least. As Leith had guessed, Respen had given his commanders instructions to wait before attacking Walden. The armies would cut off Walden from the other towns and possible reinforcement before they attacked.
But when the attack came, Walden would feel the full might of Respen’s army, both northern and southern branches.
Respen wanted to be sure Walden fell.
“Thank you. You may go. Report to the kitchen. The cook will see that you’re fed.” Lord Alistair waved his dismissal.
The rider creaked to his feet and staggered out the door. As soon as the door closed, Leith crawled around the edge of the curtain and rose to his feet.
Lord Alistair had his head bent, lines digging into his face. “Both Dently and Flayin Falls were spared. It seems Respen isn’t attacking the towns where his Blades were successful. With Respen’s armies positioned where they are, we’re cut off from the towns to the west.”
“I’m sorry.” Leith gripped the back of one of the chairs in front of Lord Alistair’s desk. “I should’ve provided better warning.”
“You did the best you could.” Lord Alistair’s shoulders hunched. “The extent of Respen’s plan took us by surprise. All except Paula Lorraine. If I’d listened to her advice years ago, Walden would be more prepared. But, in the end, it won’t matter. We have plans for withdrawing into the Sheered Rock Hills.”
Their secret base. The one buried so deep in the Sheered Rock Hills even the Blades hadn’t stumbled across it. What plans did the Resistance already have set up? A memory sparked. “The Leader is almost ready.”
Shad’s head snapped up. Lord Alistair’s hands slapped onto his desktop. “Where did you hear that?”
“I read it in a note you’d sent Abel Lachlan this past winter.” Leith flexed his fingers against the chair. “It’s one of the things I didn’t tell Respen when I returned from Stetterly.”
“I see.” Lord Alistair relaxed. “Yes, the Leader’s readiness is a factor in our plan.”
Who was the Leader? One secret Lord Alistair wouldn’t trust to Leith. Then again, probably best Leith didn’t know. He could cause too many problems if he let anything slip to Respen.
“Right now, the Leader doesn’t matter.” Shad straightened and waved at the map hanging on the wall behind Lord Alistair. “We have to decide what we’re going to do in the meantime.”
Lord Alistair swiveled in his chair. “We’ll have to send the refugees coming here on to…” He trailed off and glanced at Leith. “On to Eagle Heights.”
Eagle Heights. The name of the Resistance base. “You can’t send them right now. There are three Blades scouring the Sheered Rock Hills looking for Harrison Vane. While I can prevent them from getting too close to Walden, I can’t stop them from following the refugees to Eagle Heights.”
“That could pose something of a problem.” Shad crossed his arms. “You mentioned the next Meeting of the Blades is in a week and a half, correct?”
“Yes.” Leith nodded. Shad was on the right track. All the Blades would leave the Sheered Rock Hills to attend the Meeting of the Blades. “If you send the refugees out three days before the Meeting of the Blades, you should be safe. Split them into small groups and send them by different routes. There’ll still be tracks, but hopefully it’ll be scattered enough and old enough that few of the Blades will be able to follow.”
Martyn still could. Leith swallowed the burn in his stomach. Martyn would be looking for Vane. Surely he’d ignore five or six day old tracks made by a group.
A sharp pain twisted Leith’s chest. “Will you send Renna and Brandi along with the refugees?”
Lord Alistair stroked his beard. “Not sure. It’d probably be best. Their presence in Acktar is no longer necessary, and they’ll be safest in Eagle Heights.”
He should be thankful they’d be safe. Wasn’t that what he wanted? Renna and Brandi safe and far away from Respen. He’d joined the Resistance to make that happen.
So why did a hollow ache pour through his chest?
Leith opened his mouth, but at first the words clogged in his throat. He drew in a deep breath. “I’m the First Blade. I report directly to Respen. Alone. When I return to Nalgar Castle, I could…I could kill him. I’ve had opportunity already. I’ll have the chance again.”
Lord Alistair leaned back in his chair. His eyes hardened. “I’d never give you that order. You’re the Resistance spy, not the Resistance assassin.”
Leith’s shoulders relaxed as some of his tension eased. Not that he’d really believed Lord Alistair would ask it of him, but he had to be sure. “I know. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t failing by not killing him.”
“You’re not failing.” Shad dropped his arms back to his sides. “You’ve done the best you could.”
The leather in Lord Alistair’s chair squeaked as he rested his elbows on his desk. “I’ll admit, it’s something I considered when you returned to Nalgar Castle. And, if I thought it’d help the Resistance cause, I’d be tempted to ask you regardless of how right or wrong the action might be. But, it wouldn’t help, and it wouldn’t be right.”
Leith sagged. At least he hadn’t failed yet again when he’d decided not to kill Respen. “Why not?”
“The problem with fighting for a cause is that the rules of the cause dictate how we fight. And if we sacrifice the cause to win a few battles, we’ll ultimately lose the war.” Lord Alistair tapped his steepled fingers together. “In this case, the Resistance was founded on the principle that Respen has usurped the throne. He assassinated King Leon, Queen Deirdre, and their sons. He was crowned without the proper Gathering of Nobles.”
“I see.” Leith hu
ng his head. He’d killed one of those royal sons. “And if I were to assassinate Respen, the Resistance would be doing the same thing.”
“Exactly. We can’t kill him and prop up our own ruler in his place. Our ruler will have to be acknowledged by the entire Gathering of Nobles, and Respen must be dealt with using the justice God has bestowed to a rightful government.”
“Even beyond that, killing Respen wouldn’t stop the war.” Shad rubbed the hilt of his sword. “Can you imagine the uproar among the nobles? The country would erupt into civil war. Yes, we have war now, but at least this war has sides and a way to end it. A civil war in the wake of Respen’s death would last for years as noble after noble tried and failed to claim the throne.”
“The Blades would scatter and align themselves with whatever noble happened to be winning.” Leith grimaced. “Never thought Respen being alive would be a good thing.”
“That’s politics for you.” Shad straightened. “We’d better get something to eat before we go on ditch digging duty. But first, I have something to show you.”
Leith followed Shad from the study, down the hall, and up the broad staircase. Taking a left, Shad pushed open the door to his room. Leith raised his eyebrows. Had Shad continued to practice the knife-fighting skills Leith had tried to teach him last time he was in Walden?
As he stepped inside, Leith swept his gaze around the room. A mountain lion skin covered the floor next to a blocky, four-poster bed. A rack with arrows in various stages of completion took up most of one wall.
Leith halted in the center of the room and studied the only change since he’d been there last. A broad, wooden shield leaned against the wall across from the bed. Nicks marred its surface. Not long slashes, like Leith would’ve expected if Shad used this shield against a sword. These knicks looked more like a knife stabbing the shield. “What’ve you been up to?”
Shad grinned so broadly his skin pulled taut across his square jaw. He drew a bundle from under his bed and tossed back the wrapping.
Leith stiffened. Vane’s knives gleamed in the lamplight, their blades cleaned, polished, and oiled. His shoulder throbbed with the memory of one of those knives slamming through his skin into flesh and muscle.
Deny (The Blades of Acktar Book 2) Page 7
