As the command worked its way along the ranks, the men marched forward. Row upon row of solemn, tight-mouthed soldiers. Martyn tightened his grip on the flagpole and nudged his horse forward, wincing at the pressure on his bandaged legs.
Martyn reached the crest of the hill moments after King Keevan. On the next hill, an army surged around a large, stone building. The bell tower marked it as a church. Ladders leaned against the building as men fought at the narrow windows set into the upper story.
“Sound the bugle.” King Keevan kicked his horse into a trot. The bugle’s notes floated on the breeze, answered by each of the captains. All along the hill, the lines of soldiers marched double time.
Lord Norton’s men started and wheeled to face the army now surrounding them.
When only a hundred yards separated the two armies, King Keevan ordered a halt. Even with its rasp, his raised voice held steady. “Lord Norton. Step forward.”
Lord Norton’s army stirred and parted. Lord Norton strode from his ranks of men. Blood splattered his ripped clothing and his mussed hair. His face appeared even more angular under a layer of dirt.
Martyn smirked. One small town holed up in a church had thwarted Lord Norton’s plans. That had to be a bit galling.
“Lord Norton, I suggest you surrender.” King Keevan sat straight in the saddle.
“You will guarantee my men safety. They can return home in peace.” Lord Norton crossed his arms.
A power play. Even Martyn could see that. Lord Norton was trying to dictate the terms.
“I will make no guarantees. Either you surrender unconditionally or not at all.” King Keevan motioned toward the half-circle of thirteen hundred men behind him. “Your choice.”
Martyn suppressed a grin. King Keevan probably would allow Lord Norton’s men to return home, but it had to be on his terms, not Lord Norton’s. If Lord Norton wanted to surrender, then he would have to trust his life and the lives of his men in King Keevan’s hands.
And in doing that, he would admit that King Keevan was an honorable, trustworthy king, not the sort of king who would use Blades as assassins.
Lord Norton’s gaze latched on Martyn. His mouth tightened as his eyes narrowed. His hand twitched.
No, not just a twitch. A signal.
Martyn spotted two of Lord Norton’s archers, deep within his army, raise their bows. Martyn drew in a breath, only to have it catch in his throat in a wracking cough. He couldn’t give a warning.
King Keevan’s bodyguards threw themselves sideways in front of the king, holding up their large shields. Two arrows thunked against the wood.
Shad stood in his stirrups, whipped out an arrow, and drew it back. But he didn’t release.
King Keevan hadn’t flinched. “What will it be? Surrender or death?”
Lord Norton drew in a deep breath. His shoulders sagged. Kneeling, he set his sword on the ground. After a moment, the men behind him did the same, the movement spreading like a breeze waving tall grass.
And that was how to overwhelm with kingly majesty. Martyn struggled to hold a blank expression. It was rather satisfactory to see Lord Norton put in his place.
While King Keevan’s men marched forward and herded Lord Norton’s men away from the church, the church doors swung open.
Shad urged his horse forward, and Martyn turned his horse to follow, taking the time to pass the king’s banner to one of the bodyguards. He nodded to Owen and Kayleigh. “Stay here.”
Lord Alistair, his paralyzed hand tied across his chest, greeted Shad. Shad swung down from his horse as Renna hurried from the building and dashed down the front steps. Bandages wrapped around her upper arm and both her hands. “Shadrach! You have to—Martyn?” She skidded to a halt and stared. “Lord Norton said you were dead.”
“Nope. Net yet.” Martyn tightened his grip on the saddlehorn. It probably would’ve been polite to dismount and give her a proper greeting, but getting off his horse would involve a lot of falling and crying out in pain. “Where’s Leith?”
Renna pointed in the direction of the Spires Canyon. “Somewhere out there.”
Martyn scanned the knots of surrendering men. He didn’t see the five Blades. “And the Blades? Have you seen them?”
Renna shook her head. “No.”
“Then Leith’s still alive.” Martyn touched the hilt of the knife strapped to his waist. “The Blades have to be chasing something.”
But what shape was Leith in? Did the Blades have him cornered? Was he hiding in some hole, too hurt to even crawl to Stetterly for help?
Shad gripped Renna’s shoulders. “We’ll find him.”
Ranson and Jamie approached. Jamie crossed his arms. “We’re coming too.”
Shad nodded. “Very well. Jamie, you can ride double with me, and, Ranson, you can double with Martyn until we get to the Canyon.”
“You aren’t leaving without me.” Owen halted his horse next to Martyn.
Martyn shook his head. “No. Absolutely not. This is a Blades’ fight, and you’d only get hurt in the middle of it. I need you to look after Kayleigh until I get back.”
“I don’t think she needs looking after.” Owen crossed his arms and shot a glance toward Kayleigh. She had dismounted, her sword drawn, as she stood between the knot of Lord Norton’s surrendering soldiers and Martyn.
“You know what I meant.” Martyn dragged a hand through his hair. “Just…stay here, all right? I’ll be back.”
“Fine. But you aren’t allowed to die on me, got it? As foolishly stubborn as you are, you’re the only brother I got.”
“I’ll try not to.” Martyn leaned forward to give Ranson space to swing up behind him. When Ranson was settled, Martyn trotted his horse past Renna and nodded.
She fixed her gaze on Martyn. “Bring him home.”
Her words weighed on Martyn’s shoulders. That was his mission. Bring Leith home, dead or alive, no matter what it took. “We will. I promise.”
With one last salute, they set off at a canter.
At the rim of the canyon, everyone but Martyn dismounted. He had to save his strength until his skills, whether tracking or fighting, were needed.
Shad knelt and studied the scuffs in the trail leading down. “The tracks are muddled, but it looks like several men on horseback have gone up and down this trail frequently in the last few days.”
“Probably the Blades chasing Leith.” Jamie rested a hand on the hilt of his knife. His voice, a bit deeper than Martyn remembered, squeaked on a few of the words. Jamie swallowed, as if he’d hoped none of them had noticed.
Based on the twitch to Ranson’s mouth and the way Shad turned away, they’d all noticed.
Leaving all but Martyn’s horse at the canyon’s rim, Shad led them down the trail. The sharp, jagged walls loomed on either side, broken only by slim spires of rock and the harsh spikes of pine trees. At the bottom, the Ondieda River gurgled over the boulders strewn in its path. With the sun sinking below the horizon, shadows deepened into darkness.
Shad scouted a few paces ahead before he beckoned them forward. Ranson’s eyes darted back and forth, his mouth a thin line, while Jamie stalked in a half crouch.
“The tracks go that way toward the wall. They’re too jumbled for me to tell. I think a herd of horses galloped through here as well.” Shad pointed farther down the canyon and toward a cliff, his voice low.
Jamie’s eyes widened. “I know where Leith is.”
Martyn gaped down at the boy. How had he seen something that Martyn had missed?
Jamie pointed at the cliff. “There’s a hidden crevice with a meadow and cabin back that way. Renna and Brandi showed it to us.”
Shad studied the prints in the ground again. “They must have him cornered inside.”
“What’s the layout like?” Martyn slid from the horse’s back. His legs buckled, and he would’ve fallen if Ranson hadn’t steadied him. Martyn nodded his thanks. Not that long ago, he’d been Ranson’s First Blade. Ranson had little reason to show
any sort of concern now.
“The opening is very narrow, barely big enough for a saddled horse to squeeze through. The walls are sheer, so it would be difficult for someone to ambush us from above. Once inside, the crevice opens into a meadow with a dense stand of pine trees at the entrance. There are fallen boulders around the edges that could provide cover.” Jamie squeezed his eyes shut, as if to better picture his memories. “It’ll be dark in there already”
Shad gave a sharp nod and straightened. “Do any of these Blades know how to throw knives?”
“No.” Martyn limped forward a step. Pain sliced through the soles of his feet and tore all the way up to his thighs. His chest tightened, as if in preparation to begin panting for breath. How could he be tired already? “They’ll have two or three stationed by the entrance. The others will be searching for Leith, trying to flush him out. Once they have him in the open, they’ll try to take him out all together.”
“Which means they’ll be looking into the clearing, not watching the entrance.” Shad nocked an arrow to his bowstring. “Stay close.”
Martyn gave him a slow nod and drew his knives. A year ago, he never would’ve guessed he’d follow Shadrach Alistair, heir to Walden, into battle, much less that he’d do it willingly.
But this is what Martyn did best. Follow orders. At least Shad was a worthy commander to follow.
Shad stalked toward the crevice with Jamie at his elbow to point out the hidden entrance. Martyn fell in line behind them, his legs trembling with each step. Ranson took up the rear guard.
As they rounded a bend, the crevice opened into a gloom-filled clearing, the dark shapes of pines blocking most of Martyn’s view. Shad kept his back to the cliff face, motioning them to do the same.
Martyn searched the gathering darkness for the Blades. Where would they be camped? Most likely in the pine trees where their black clothes would blend in. Tapping Shad’s shoulder, Martyn motioned to their left, away from the pine trees. If they were going to sneak past the Blades, that’s the direction they should go.
Shad nodded and crept to his left. Jamie, Ranson, and Martyn tiptoed behind him.
Something moved in the shadows of the clearing. Was it Leith? No, it was someone dressed in black and was that…
“Get down!” Shad dove behind a boulder as an arrow cracked against the rock.
Martyn stumbled a few steps and collapsed to his knees behind the boulder with Shad. “Archers. They weren’t in the plan.”
“No.” Shad flexed his fingers against his bowstring. With a deep breath, he straightened, stretched his bow to full draw, and loosed the arrow. He dove back into cover as two more arrows tore the air.
“You didn’t get him.” Martyn grimaced and gasped at the pain wracking his legs.
“No. And there happen to be three archers out there.” Shad nocked another arrow.
“Better and better.” Martyn tugged at his hair. Some rescue this was turning out to be.
“Where do you think Leith is?” Shad leaned against the boulder and peered over.
Ducking around the boulder, Martyn scanned the meadow. Leith could be anywhere—holed up behind a boulder, tucked into a small cave in the cliff face.
“I don’t know.” Martyn adjusted his grip on his knives. What if Leith was too injured to find them? How would Martyn, Shad, Jamie, and Ranson fight off five Blades and three archers by themselves?
Boots thumped to the ground behind Martyn. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
35
Martyn managed to swivel without falling over. Leith leaned against the cliff face behind them, arms crossed, the hint of a grin playing across his face. The fading light cast shadows in the lines around his mouth and the circles under his eyes.
“Turns out Shad thinks he’s fireproof.” Martyn shrugged.
Why had he been so worried? Leith had survived the Waste and a week of torture. Five lowly Blades would hardly be a challenge, even if they’d brought a few archers as back up.
Shad huffed. “I’m really getting tired of having to save the two of you all the time. It seems to be all I do lately.”
Martyn sank against the boulder, his whole body aching, including his grin. But he couldn’t think of anyone, except Leith, he’d rather have guarding his back than Shad.
Leith’s grin faded as he studied Martyn. Sweat dribbled from Martyn’s hairline and across a pale, drawn face. He knelt on the ground, shivering, and leaned against the boulder to keep himself upright.
This wasn’t the time to ask. Not while they still had five Blades and three archers between them and the crevice.
There was only one thing more Leith had to know. “Renna?”
“Safe. Both her and Brandi.” Shad’s gaze never wavered from the trees, though his stance shifted as if he stood on broken glass. “Lord Norton surrendered.”
Martyn hauled himself to a crouch, his muscles straining and shaking. Yet his gaze was steady. “What are your orders, First Blade?”
Leith stilled. “I’m not the First Blade. If anything, you are. You were the last First Blade.”
Martyn shook his head. “I was about the worst First Blade ever. All I did was guard a girl too injured to escape, a girl who shouldn’t even have been there if I’d done the right thing in the first place. No, you were a First Blade like the First Blade always should’ve been. The kind of leader men can respect when they follow him because he does the right thing and protects those under him. So what are your orders?”
Leith glanced from Martyn to Ranson, who gave him a slow nod, and Jamie, who gripped his knives tighter.
When Leith turned to Shad, Shad grinned, though he never relaxed his ready stance with his bow and arrow. “You know I’d jump off a cliff if you gave the order. I’ve done it before.”
Leith couldn’t stop a grin. Of course, there had been a rope tied around Shad’s waist back then.
Yet, that night on the cliff, Shad had been dressed as First Blade Vane. Shad. Martyn. Both fellow First Blades in some way.
And now they were Blades the way the Blades should’ve been. Not assassins, but something more. Something better.
This fight ended here and now. Whatever the Blades had been had to die in this meadow one way or another.
Leith drew his knives. “Jamie, you’re with me. Ranson and Martyn, watch each other’s back. Shad, you’ll help us best by standing back and providing covering fire. I’m going to give them one chance to surrender. If they don’t, we fight.”
Grim faced, they all nodded.
Leith slid into place behind a boulder a few paces away from Shad and Martyn. Jamie knelt next to him, tense.
A cold weight settled into Leith’s stomach. Fighting and killing these Blades wasn’t what he wanted. It would’ve been better had they taken their chance of freedom and remained banished outside of Acktar’s borders.
He would give them one last chance. But if they didn’t take it, the fight to come would be to the death. There was no other option. No mercy left to give.
“Archers, Lord Norton has surrendered. You have no reason to stay here. Leave now and you’ll not be harmed.” Leith peered above the boulder. He could make out two Blades and their archers at the far side of the clearing. Two Blades moved among the trees. Where was the last Blade and archer?
Jamie tapped his arm and pointed. The other Blade and archer crept through the boulders to their left, trying to get around behind Leith and the others.
“All of you.” Leith fixed his gaze on the stand of trees. “If any of you wish to leave, do so now. Leave Acktar, and I’ll not follow. But I promise you here and now that if any of you remain behind, I will hunt you down, and I will kill you.”
The harsh words grated, even in his own ears. He didn’t want to kill again. But the Blades had pushed far enough. Lord Norton, and through him these Blades, had hurt Renna. They’d hurt Martyn. This couldn’t continue, and either the Blades died here in battle or, if Leith and Shad somehow managed to capture them, they di
ed in Nalgar Castle’s courtyard.
A Blade sauntered from the treeline. Quinten Daas based on his swagger. “I don’t believe you’ll kill us. You’re too tame for that. How do you like being Lady Faythe’s pet? I hear you’ll do all sort of tricks just for one of her glances.”
Did Daas really think such childish insults would rattle Leith? Especially not with Renna safe under King Keevan’s protection. “Last chance. Leave.”
“Do you think you scare us? You only have one other fighter who might be able to stand against one of us. The rest are either boys scared of their own blood or too injured to walk straight.” Daas laughed a harsh, choking sort of sound. “Besides, between us and the archers Lord Norton lent us, we outnumber you. You’re not going to survive this one.”
That was it, then. Leith didn’t feel the ice that had spurred him as a Blade, though the iron still remained.
All it took was a twitch of a hand, a nod of his head. Shad released an arrow, and Daas dodged behind a tree, the arrow missing him by inches.
Martyn and Ranson darted to the left, cutting off the Blade and archer circling that way.
Leith dashed forward, Jamie’s footsteps crunching in time with his. They ducked into the trees. Leith crouched, holding his breath to listen.
Was that a faint crunching sound?
Daas kicked out from behind the tree. Leith spun to avoid the boot Daas had aimed at his knee and struck downward with his knife. Daas shoved his hand aside, his other hand carving his knife upward toward Leith’s stomach. Leith blocked the strike and twisted Daas’s hand away from him.
Steel clanged on steel somewhere behind him. Jamie, guarding Leith’s back.
Stepping in closer, he got a boot behind Daas’s foot, and he rammed an elbow into Daas’s shoulder. Daas toppled to the ground.
“Leave. This isn’t a fight you can win.” Leith stepped back. Somewhere behind him, a body thunked to the ground, pine needles crackling. Jamie or the Blade he’d been fighting? Leith couldn’t turn around to look.
Deliver (The Blades of Acktar Book 4) Page 31
