THE BLADES OF ACKTAR
BOOK ONE
DARE
TRICIA MINGERINK
Copyright © 2015 by Tricia Mingerink
Triciamingerink.com
Published by Sword & Cross Publishing
Sword & Cross Publishing and the Sword & Cross Publishing logo are trademarks of Tricia Mingerink. Absense of ™ in connection with Sword & Cross Publishing does not indicate an absence of trademark protection of those marks.
Cover by Ashley Joy Illustration
Ashleyjoyillustration.com
Cover and interior images
©duncan1890 – iStock.com
© Aquir – iStock.com
©yyang – Shutterstock.com
©fourleaflover
©webdesignhot.com
©photoshopgraphics.com
Edited by Nadine Brandes
Nadinebrandes.com
All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in written reviews, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and settings are the product of the author's over active imagination. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, events, or settings is purely coincidental or used fictitiously.
All Scripture quotes are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
To God, my King and Father
Soli Deo Gloria
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Map
Character List
Location List
Acknowledgements
Coming Soon
About the Author
Now when Daniel knew that the writing was signed,
he went into his house; and his windows
being open in his chamber toward Jerusalem,
he kneeled upon his knees three times a day,
and prayed, and gave thanks before his God,
as he did aforetime.
Then the king commanded, and they brought Daniel,
and cast him into the den of lions.
Now the king spake and said unto Daniel,
thy God whom thou servest continually,
he will deliver thee.
- Daniel 6:10 & 16
1
Third Blade Leith Torren knew they were in trouble the moment he saw the girl.
“What is she doing here?” He pointed at the girl Twenty-Second Blade Ralph Chimb had tossed into a corner. The woodshed they were using as shelter rattled with the winter winds that scoured Acktar’s prairie. The girl shrank against the grey wall.
Chimb’s blond hair spiked with icicles. He shook snow from his cloak and scrubbed at his crooked, snow-reddened nose. The knives strapped to his waist and chest held his black clothes on his angular body. He smirked. “Found her in a tavern. Thought we’d have some fun while we wait.”
“We’re here to search for Resistance activity, not to have fun.” Leith huffed out a misty breath as he tried to calm down. Why did he have to be the Blade stuck on Chimb’s first mission? Only two years older than Chimb’s sixteen years, he felt ages wiser. “Put her back where you found her.”
“Why?” Chimb’s eyes sparked.
Leith drew his knife and stepped towards Chimb. Chimb raised his sharp chin. The girl in the corner shrieked while the shed shook with another gust of wind. Leith stared at the younger Blade until he squirmed. “Don’t question me.”
When Chimb backed up a step, Leith sheathed his knife. “You’ve failed our mission. We won’t be able to hide if the townspeople search for her. Better she tell them two Blades are in the area, and they avoid us.” Leith snapped his mouth shut. King Respen wouldn’t like their failure.
Leith jabbed a finger at the door. “Check outside.”
Chimb glanced at the shivering girl, grimaced, and dragged his feet toward the door. Tugging his cloak over his shoulders, he yanked the door open. Snow blasted into the shed. He trudged outside and slammed the door behind him.
Ignoring the girl, Leith rubbed his left shoulder. In his five years as a Blade, he’d never suffered the humiliation of a mark of failure. If not for Chimb’s recklessness, he wouldn’t be facing the possibility now.
Telling this to Chimb would be a waste of time. Either the boy got discipline or he died.
Chimb stumbled inside and yanked the door closed against the clawing wind. “Didn’t see anyone around.”
“If you’re lucky, you can get her back before anyone notices she’s missing.” Striding across the shed, Leith reached for his horse’s bridle. Even in his gloves, his fingers tingled with cold. With the wind shrieking its way into a blizzard, they wouldn’t be scouting around Stetterly Manor as planned.
Chimb scowled and grabbed at the girl. She cowered away from him, whimpering. He rolled his eyes. “I’m taking you back.”
The door splintered and crashed to the floor. Several men armed with hunting bows burst inside. The burly man in front took one look at Chimb and fired. Chimb fell against the wall and slid to the floor, an arrow in his chest, a vacant look in his eyes.
Leith hesitated a heartbeat. Two long jumps to the girl. Not enough time to use her as a shield. Two of the men swung their bows towards him. No time to negotiate. No chance to fight bows with only his knives. Leith lunged for his saddlehorn.
One man drew his bowstring and fired. Something punched Leith’s stomach, slamming him against his horse. Pain ricocheted through his body.
He had to get away. Now. Grabbing his saddlehorn, he slapped his horse’s rump. The horse bolted. The men in the doorway dove out of the way as the horse charged through. Leith clung to the saddlehorn, letting his horse drag him from the building.
As they careened into the snowy street, Leith shoved off with his feet and swung into the saddle. The movement tore through his stomach. He cried out and doubled over. He dropped the reins and gave his horse its head.
The wind whipped by him, heavy with flakes. His horse charged down the road and past the snow-covered remains of a church Leith had helped burn down four years ago.
The horse plowed into the ditch bordering the road and stumbled in the snow that reached its chest. The arrow shaft struck the saddle, twisting the broadhead in his gut. Moaning, Leith gripped the shaft and snapped it off, tossing the end away.
The blizzard’s breath bui
lt into a howl. His horse galloped into it, heedless of the snow dashing against them. He pressed a hand to his stomach. The red blood—his blood—stained his glove and darkened the snow collecting on his arm and saddle.
His horse staggered through a drift. His arm shifted, snagging on the broken end of the arrow shaft. He gritted his teeth at the fresh rush of pain.
The blizzard screamed around him. The snow stabbed at his cheeks and eyes. He gripped his horse’s mane. If he fell off, he would die. He choked on a laugh. He could die right where he was. The blood pooling on his saddle and the lightness in his head warned him death wasn’t far away.
He'd failed. He never failed. He'd worked so hard to earn his place, yet he'd been brought down by Chimb's foolishness and a single, peasant's arrow.
He was going to die. Alone. Unwanted.
The dark shape of a building loomed out of the white. A light flickered in a window.
Someone was there. He couldn't count on their help, and he wouldn't beg. A Blade never showed that much weakness. But maybe they’d give him a warm place to rest and stay by him so he didn’t have to die alone.
2
Renna and her sister Brandi huddled beside the fire, wrapped in a mound of blankets against the cold whistling through the manor. She picked up the poker and stirred the fire. The heat struggled to fill the wood-paneled kitchen and warm the red brick floor.
If only Aunt Mara and Uncle Abel were here. They’d gone to Stetterly before the blizzard struck and would be stuck there for as long as this blizzard lasted. Renna prayed for their safety. If Uncle Abel and Aunt Mara decided to try to make it back…if they got lost in the blizzard…Renna added another log to the fire.
Something thumped against the kitchen door. Renna jumped and hugged her thirteen-year-old sister tighter. Brandi’s red-blond hair clung to the blanket as she squirmed away from Renna. “What was that?”
Renna peeled herself from the blankets. “Maybe it’s Aunt Mara and Uncle Abel.” She shivered her way to the door, unbarred it, and turned the latch. It wrenched from her hand and banged against the wall. A body fell into the room. Renna screamed and leapt backwards.
Brandi dashed to Renna’s side. “Who’s that?”
“I don’t know. Here, help me get him inside.” Renna grabbed one of the man’s arms. Together, she and Brandi dragged him inside. He groaned as Brandi shoved the door closed. His black hair glistened with snow, and melting snowflakes reddened his slim face. Renna knelt next to him. “Ssh, lie still.”
“My horse…” The man nodded at the door.
Brandi grabbed her cloak and swung it over her shoulders. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Be careful.” Renna grabbed at her sister’s skirt, but Brandi whirled out of her reach.
Brandi rolled her eyes. “I know. It is a blizzard.”
Renna bit her lip. What if Brandi got disoriented? The swirling white made the buildings nearly invisible from each other. The rope strung between the manor and the stables should guide her, but…Brandi skipped out the door and tugged it shut behind her.
A moan from the floor reminded her that she had another life to worry about. Rolling him to his back, she pulled aside his cloak. A broken shaft stuck from a wet splotch covering his side and stomach.
She clenched her fingers into fists to stop their shaking. She’d never dug out an arrow by herself before. If Aunt Mara were here…but she wasn’t. A young man was hurt, and only Renna had the training to help him.
She touched his shoulder, gaining his attention. “I need to move you to the fire. Can you walk if I help?”
He nodded and struggled to sit up. She pulled one of his arms over her shoulder and together they stumbled to the fire. While he propped himself up against a chair, she spread out two blankets and helped him lie down.
As she did, her eyes focused on the two knives hanging in sheaths from his belt. She froze. Her mind whirled as she took in other details. Black clothing. Black leather boots. No sword. More knives strapped across his chest. Stylized initials LT etched in the hilts.
She recoiled. He was a Blade. She'd only seen one once, but she’d heard plenty about the black-clothed assassin-spies who served King Respen.
The Blade turned his face towards her. His hand inched toward one of the knives strapped across his chest. Was he going to threaten her?
He didn't beg. But, his eyes, green as the prairie grass in spring, drew her gaze. His hand dropped from his knife.
Renna swallowed. She wanted to run or throw this Blade back into the snow. The Blades had killed her parents, her aunt and uncle, and her cousins. She didn’t want to help him. He didn’t deserve her help.
All she had to do was sit here, and he’d die within a few hours. His slow death would be small retribution for the blood of her family that stained his hands.
But she was a healer. She grimaced and rubbed her hands together to stop their trembling. She’d helped anyone who'd ever asked it of her. But surely a Blade was exempt. She might even save lives if she let the Blade die.
She buried her face in her hands, trying to shut out the sound of the Blade’s ragged breathing. Her heart, her hands, ached to help while her mind railed against the idea.
If only Uncle Abel was here. He’d lay his hand on Renna’s arm and quote a Scripture passage so suited to the situation that Renna would know what to do.
What did the Bible say about something like this? Love your enemies. Bless those who curse you. Do not reward evil with evil but reward evil with good.
The Blade had his arms wrapped over his wound. Blood soaked his clothes, and sweat beaded on his forehead and upper lip. His body quaked with the effort to continue breathing. If she only focused on his face, he looked young and helpless.
The Blade’s life wasn’t hers to take. She had to place his life in God’s hands. She nearly prayed for the Blade to die but stopped herself. A prayer for her patient’s death wasn’t the right way to approach healing.
She forced herself to smile and touch the Blade’s shoulder. “I’m a healer. Rest easy now. I need to gather a few things before I can tend you.”
His eyes widened. Renna turned away, finding calm in the automatic movements of her hands. Fill the kettle with water and hang it over the fire. Gather the bandages. Lay out her silk thread, needle, and small knife. Mix the poultice. Place everything on a tray. The familiar actions soothed her thumping heart and sparking nerves. He was simply another patient.
As she placed the tray on the floor next to the Blade, the door burst open in a flurry of snow. The wind shoved Brandi inside. She slammed the door, barred it, and bounced across the room, flinging her scarf, cloak, and mittens onto a chair.
“His horse is all settled in the stable. I took off its saddle and bridle. I gave it hay, but the water was frozen so I broke the ice and hauled some more water from the well. Is he going to be all right? There was a lot of blood on the saddle.”
Brandi plopped onto the ground beside their patient, extending her hands toward the fire and cocking her head to stare at the Blade. “He’s not very old, is he?”
Renna paused. Brandi was right. The Blade couldn’t be much older than her own seventeen years. He had a smooth face, only a few sparse bristles scattered on his chin. His shoulders lacked the breadth of a full-grown man. Renna heaved a sigh. “He’s also awake and can hear you.”
“Oh.” Brandi scooted closer. “Need my help?”
Renna wanted to keep Brandi as far away from the Blade as possible, but she needed the extra pair of hands since Aunt Mara wasn’t there. “Yes. First, we need to get his weapons and cloak off.”
The Blade opened his eyes again. “Why would you help me?”
“Why not?” Brandi’s tone implied the Blade was stupid to think otherwise. She picked up one of his hands and yanked the glove off. “Renna’s a healer. She’ll have you fixed up in no time.” She tugged off his second glove and tossed them away.
“I’ll do my best. Now, I need you to cooperate
.” Renna squeezed her trembling hands together. She needed to be calm. She could handle tending a Blade.
Maybe.
Leith gathered his strength and pushed himself semi-upright. The arrow shifted, stabbing him in waves of pain. The older girl jumped backwards, fear glimmering in her blue eyes.
The younger girl rushed forward, helping him lean back against the warm stones of the fireplace. He closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath.
He’d killed here. Not this room, but he’d sneaked through here to ambush their guards four years ago. If these girls knew which Blade they helped, they'd toss him back into the snow.
Thankfully he didn't have to threaten them to gain their help. He didn't enjoy that sort of thing, not the way Chimb had or First Blade Harrison Vane did.
But he had considered it. He’d seen death on too many faces. The terror etched in dying eyes that saw into the realm beyond death. Only a few had relaxed into peacefulness, as if the world they saw on the other side welcomed them with cradling arms.
Forcing his eyes open, he fumbled with the buckles of the knife belt around his waist and the straps crossing his chest. The younger sister helped support him while he eased the leather free.
The older girl snatched the weapons away from him and flung them across the room so hard they smacked the opposite wall.
No chance to force their cooperation now. He was at their mercy. Bile joined the metallic tang of blood in his mouth.
“Renna?” The younger girl glanced at her sister. “What’d you do that for?”
“I…just never mind, Brandi.” Renna’s hands shook as she undid the clasp of his cloak. Leith avoided looking her in the eye and did his best to shrug away the layers of his wool cloak.
“Lie down.” Renna set the cloak aside, her light blond braid swinging across her shoulders.
Leith drew in a breath. Even moving a few inches tore at his stomach. Once again, Brandi jumped to help him move. She lifted his head and bunched some of the blanket beneath him for a pillow. Her red-blond hair flowed around her shoulders in untamed abandon, trailing across his face and into his eyes.
Dare (The Blades of Acktar Book 1) Page 1
