“They had no reason to scout farther away than their immediate campsite.” Leith watched the faint dust cloud rising from the horizon.
“That’s going to change.” Shad muttered under his breath, but Leith heard it anyway. “Do we start following them now?”
Leith shook his head. “We’ll give them a two-hour head start. We don’t want to get too close while they’re climbing the trail into the canyon.”
If he’d been by himself, he would’ve kept Lord Alistair in sight. But as good as Shad was proving to be at sneaking, Leith couldn’t trust him not to make a mistake. Lord Alistair knew he was being followed, but his guards didn’t.
Shad nodded and crawled out of the brush. After hiking back to their campsite, Leith waved at Shad’s bedroll. “Catch a nap. I’ll wake you in an hour.”
Climbing to the hill above their campsite, Leith settled in as comfortably as he could. The time passed in a buzz of insects and rustle of animals in the grass. When an hour was up, Leith woke Shad. This time, he came awake without pulling a knife.
Leith stretched out on the grass. “Keep a watch on the hill. Make sure no other travelers decide to pass through this area.”
Shad grabbed all of his and Leith’s weapons and headed off. When he was gone, Leith fished the Bible out of his pack. He should take the opportunity for a few minutes of sleep. But he could handle the lack of rest. Satisfying his curiosity was more important.
Wiggling into a comfortable position, Leith opened the book to the first page and started reading. The stories wrapped around him. What if the world had been created with just a few commands? That kind of power was overwhelming. It made the power that King Respen wielded over Acktar seem…small. Like an ant declaring absolute rule over his tiny anthill without realizing that he could be crushed in a single footstep.
Something nudged Leith’s foot. Leith dropped the book and reached for his knife. His hand closed over air. Shad stood over him, arms crossed. He had the audacity to smirk. Leith scowled, picked up the book, and brushed it off. “Has it been an hour?”
Shad's smirk still hovered on his face. “Interesting reading?”
Leith shrugged. “Time to get moving.” He swung onto Blizzard. He and Shad trotted their horses east until the Spires Canyon sliced across the land in front of them.
Leith located the same game trail Lord Alistair had used. The first section of trail hugged the side of the canyon in a thin, winding ledge. Dismounting, they led their horses and eased forward one foot at a time.
Near the bottom, the ledges disappeared into a steep incline of shale and gravel. Leith started downward, trusting Blizzard to pick his way down the slope.
Shad’s horse followed without hesitation, as if he was used to sliding down slopes and scrabbling along cliff faces. Did Shad do a lot of travelling through the Spires Canyon and the Sheered Rock Hills? Why? He’d have no reason to venture into the Hills unless…
Unless he was as much a part of the Resistance as his father.
Leith’s feet slid on the shale. He would’ve fallen except for his grip on Blizzard’s reins. Blizzard planted his feet until Leith regained his footing.
Of course Lord Alistair wouldn’t keep his Resistance activities from his son the way Lachlan protected Renna. But how much was Shad involved? Was Shad the Leader mentioned in Lord Alistair’s message?
Leith slid the last few feet to the level ground at the floor of the canyon. Pebbles lined the banks of the river while tufts of grass poked through the muddy breaks in the stone. Shad and his horse trotted down the last few feet and halted next to him.
As they swung on their horses and started off again, Leith glanced at Shadrach. “So, you're Lord Alistair's son? I wouldn't have guessed that two nights ago.”
Shad settled into his saddle. He stared at the canyon ahead of them. “I’m the captain of the guard, and I’m his son. It’s best to keep those two things separate.” His jaw tightened.
Leith sensed an edge to Shad’s words, but he didn’t dare probe too deeply. He understood father issues all too well. He scanned the cliffs above them. “You aren’t going to be missed at Walden? Won’t the guards notice their captain disappeared?”
Shad's shrug rattled the arrows in his quiver. “No. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to leave.”
There it was again. The hint that Shad travelled a lot. What was the Resistance doing that would cause Shad to travel so much? How organized was the Resistance? Was there more to it than even King Respen had guessed?
21
The eyes were back. Renna shivered as she tossed the wash water into the yard. Two guards from Uster patrolled the yard in front of her while a third strolled around the stable. None of them seemed to sense anything wrong.
She dashed into the kitchen and slammed the door behind her. She leaned against it, panting even though she’d only run a few steps.
For over a week, the nagging sense of being watched had vanished, especially after Sheriff Allen managed to get the message to Uster and returned with a ten-man squad of guards with Lord Segon’s compliments. But now the icy feeling of staring eyes prickled across her skin.
Aunt Mara paused in wiping down the wooden countertops. Uncle Abel looked up from his sermon notes spread across the table. “What’s wrong?”
Renna glanced over her shoulder. “I felt watched again.” Was the First Blade back? She hadn’t seen him since that night outside the hidden cabin.
Uncle Abel eyed the window. “Did the guards see anything?”
“No.” She pressed her palms against the wood behind her. Was she imagining things? Perhaps she was simply becoming paranoid.
Uncle Abel gathered his notes. “Our message got through. Henry Alistair should be getting it any day now. He’ll have a solution. The guards from Uster will be here until then.”
Aunt Mara frowned. The delicate lines on her face deepened. “Where’s Brandi?”
“Out in the stable.” Renna’s pulse hammered at her temples. What if the First Blade held a knife to Brandi’s throat like he had Renna’s? “I’ll fetch her.”
“Let’s go together. I don’t want either of you girls going out alone.” Aunt Mara set down her towel. “Best not to take any chances.”
Uncle Abel tapped his sermon notes into a neat pile, tucked them into the Bible, and returned them all to the pantry. Picking up her father’s knife, Uncle Abel cracked the door open and peered out. Nodding to them, he stepped outside.
Renna slipped out the door, Aunt Mara following on her heels. The guards nodded at them in greeting. Uncle Abel spoke to one of them briefly before they squished across the yard and entered the stables. The musty smell of hay drifted on the breeze. “Brandi?”
“Over here.” Brandi’s voice came from the back of the stables.
Renna hurried between the long lines of empty stalls. The place had once been filled with stomping stallions and sleek mares.
Brandi sat on a short beam in the goat pen. She scratched a brown goat between its curving horns. The goat tilted its head and rolled its eyes. “Ginger makes funny faces when you scratch her head like this.”
Renna forced a smile to her face. “Yes, she does. Now come back to the manor.”
Brandi’s eyes flashed up. “Are we being watched again?”
Aunt Mara knelt and wrapped an arm around Brandi’s shoulders. “We think so. But don’t panic. We’ll be all right.”
Renna squeezed her hands together to hide their trembling. Her skin crawled with the feeling of a knife dragging across her skin. Had the First Blade come back to kill her? Or taunt her some more?
As Aunt Mara stood, Uncle Abel pressed the knife into her hand. “Get the girls inside and bar the doors. I need to warn Sheriff Allen and let everyone know church services will be canceled again.”
Aunt Mara nodded, her lips pressed flat. Her fingers curled around the knife like she was prepared to use it. Renna hadn’t seen her look that dangerous since the night Renna’s parents died. “Come
on, girls. Let’s go inside.”
Brandi popped to her feet and bounced ahead of them. Uncle Abel reached for their worn saddle for Stubborn.
As they exited the stables, Renna scanned the surrounding hills. She couldn’t spot anyone, but then again, if there was a watcher and he was a Blade, she’d only spot him if he wanted to be spotted.
22
Leith studied the hoof prints in the dust of the game trail descending the canyon’s side from the direction of Uster. The early afternoon sun flayed the back of his neck, but at least the canyon wall would provide shade in another hour.
He searched for footprints, but he didn’t see any. Martyn must still be out on the prairie.
Standing, Leith dusted off his knees and returned to where he’d left Shad around a bend in the canyon wall. “Looks like your father took an hour or so to meet with Lord Segon in Uster. Sixth Blade Martyn Hamish is stationed there. As soon as he can sneak away safely, he’s going to be headed this way expecting to meet me.”
“Do you have to talk with him?” Shad's brown eyes narrowed.
“Yes. It’s an old understanding.” Friendship would be a better word for it, but Leith didn’t want Shad to hear him say it. While it’d be safer to meet Martyn at the canyon rim and away from Shad, Shad wouldn’t want him out of sight or earshot. “Walk your horse along the trail your father and his guards left until you’re passed that stand of trees up ahead.”
Eyes still narrowed, Shad tugged his horse forward. Leith followed, purposely scuffing his feet to kick as much dirt and sand around as possible. He needed to obscure the trail so Martyn wouldn’t notice the extra set of fresh tracks.
He spotted a thicket of spruce and firs clumped against the canyon wall. That’s where Martyn’s camp would be. As they passed the trees, a whuffing snort from Martyn’s horse told him he’d guessed right.
On the other side of the thicket, Leith waved Shad over to a stack of boulders that had tumbled from the canyon face at one point. A ledge protruded a few yards above, hiding the spot from the canyon’s rim. “Stay here and keep your horse quiet. You’ll hear everything we say, but we’ll also hear you if you make noise.”
Shad placed his hand on his horse’s nose. He raised his eyebrows. “I suppose you’re going to ask for your knives back?”
“Martyn’s going to think something’s strange if I don’t have them.” Leith kept his arms loose at his sides. They’d built something resembling trust in the three days they’d travelled together. But would it be enough?
Something rattled along the trail into the canyon. Shad glanced toward the sound, and his shoulders straightened. He yanked the bundle of Leith’s weapons off his saddle and shoved them at Leith.
Leith grabbed them, gripped Blizzard’s reins, and tugged the horse into the thicket. On one side, a small puddle collected the water trickling from a crack in the canyon wall. Martyn’s dust-colored horse stood beside it, head up, ears pricked in their direction. The remains of a fire piled against the canyon wall where it couldn’t be seen from above while Martyn’s pack and bedroll lay tucked under a rock shelf next to his horse.
Dropping Blizzard’s reins next to Martyn’s horse, Leith buckled on his weapons as fast as he could. As soon as the last knife settled in place, he flopped to the ground next to a cedar.
He’d just laced his fingers behind his head as Martyn shoved through the last of the spruce trees. Leith yawned and stretched his arms above his head. If he yawned loud enough, maybe Martyn wouldn’t notice the faint dust cloud he’d kicked up. “Took you long enough.”
“Don’t complain. You enjoyed your nap.” Martyn shook dust from his curls, dropped to the ground across from Leith, and lounged on his hands. “I had to do all the hard work of eavesdropping on Lord Segon.”
“Learn anything interesting?” Leith’s chest tightened. Martyn wasn’t acting like he’d overheard anything about Leith, but he still could’ve learned enough to make him suspicious.
Martyn kicked at a pebble. “No. Not for lack of trying. But they went into the only room in the entire manor without a window and stationed guards in front of the door and the doors of the rooms around it too. I couldn’t get anywhere close. Whatever they talked about, it must’ve been important.”
Leith rested his arms on his knees to disguise the way his shoulders sagged in relief. “Must be.”
Martyn dug into his pack and pulled out two slices of dried beef. Handing one to Leith, he chomped on the other. “What brings Lord Alistair out this way?”
Tearing a bite from the meat, Leith chewed to give himself some time. “Apparently the trouble the First Blade and I stirred up in Stetterly got Lord Alistair’s attention. He plans to take Lady Rennelda and Lady Brandiline to Walden.”
Martyn frowned and gnawed on his next bite. “Why now? If the Resistance was so concerned with their safety, why haven’t they taken them away from Stetterly before this?”
Leith shrugged. “King Respen hasn’t bothered them until now. And the Resistance wouldn’t want to give the impression they were rallying behind Lady Rennelda.”
“Does that mean the Resistance is ready to set Lady Rennelda up as queen?” Martyn shoved the last of his meat in his mouth.
Leith swallowed. The meat thumped into the bottom of his stomach. What were Lord Alistair’s intentions besides keeping Renna and Brandi safe? Was he planning to rally the Resistance behind her?
The words from the message he’d seen tucked in Lachlan’s Bible whispered down his spine. The Leader is almost ready. “Guess we’ll find out.”
Martyn ran his fingers through his hair. “I—”
The sound of a hoof on stone clipped around the clearing.
Martyn planted his hands to push himself to his feet. Leith motioned for him to stay put.
Leith couldn’t hear anything over his galloping heart. If Martyn investigated, he’d spot Shad. What would Leith do if his friends tried to kill each other?
Across the thicket, Martyn’s horse stared in Shad’s direction, ears pricked. Blizzard snorted, shook his mane, and lowered his head to slurp at the puddle.
Leith forced himself to relax. “Must’ve been a deer or something. Blizzard doesn’t sense anything wrong.”
Martyn lowered himself back to the ground, but his eyes flicked from his horse to the trees surrounding them. “Strange. My horse does.” He shook his head and narrowed his eyes at Leith. “Blizzard? You named your horse?”
He’d made a mistake. He’d forgotten that Martyn didn’t know his horse’s name. He rolled one shoulder like it didn’t matter. “He seems to like it. Better than calling him Horse all the time.”
Martyn cocked his head at him. “Guess so.” He shoved to his feet and dusted off his hands. “Better go back to spying. Wouldn’t want Lord Segon to do something interesting without me.”
Leith scrambled to his feet. “And I can’t let Lord Alistair get too far ahead of me.”
Martyn slapped Leith on the back, glanced one last time in the direction of Shad’s hiding place, and strode towards the trail. Leith gathered Blizzard’s reins and led him from the thicket. He listened to the faint clicking of rocks as Martyn climbed the trail.
When he couldn’t hear any more sounds and Martyn disappeared over the rim, Leith led Blizzard around the boulder.
Shad leaned against the cliff wall, his horse’s reins tight in his fist. “That was close.” He kept his voice pitched low.
Leith squinted over his shoulder. “We need to get out of here. Stick to the canyon wall.”
They led their horses as close to the cliff face as they could. The trees and fallen boulders hampered their progress, but Leith didn’t dare step into the open.
When a good five miles of safety lay behind them, Leith halted Blizzard and sank onto a rock. “Time for a halt.”
Shad sagged onto a rock across from him. “Finally. You had a chance to eat, but I was too busy hiding.”
While Shad rifled in his pack and pulled out a length of d
ried beef, Leith unbuckled the knives strapped across his chest. He held them out to Shad. Shad glanced at the knives, finished chewing, and met Leith’s gaze. “You keep them.”
Leith stared at the knives in his hands, then back up at Shad. “You trust me?”
“Yes.” Shad’s mouth quirked. “If you’d wanted to kill me, you would’ve done it long ago, weapons or no.”
Leith strapped the knives in place and grinned. Trust had a nice sound to it. Like the sound of friendship. Or freedom.
As soon as camp was set up for the night and supper cooked on the fire he’d deemed them sheltered enough to risk, Leith pulled out the Bible and leaned against the base of a tree.
Shad lounged against a tree a few feet away. “You’re actually serious about reading the Bible.”
“You didn’t think I was?”
Shad shrugged. “I thought you were doing it to make yourself look good. But I’ve been watching. You’re actually reading, and”—Shad leaned over and tapped the page— “no one sticks with reading Leviticus unless they’re really serious.”
Leith grimaced. “It’s kind of confusing.” His brain ached with the muddle he’d crammed inside his head.
Shad took the book, flipped a number of pages, and handed it back to Leith. “Try reading the New Testament for a little while. Now that you’ve read about Creation and how Adam and Eve sinned, you might want to read about Jesus Christ, the Son of God Who came as the redemption from that sin.”
Leith cocked his head. “Son of God? Like the person the evil king saw in the furnace with Daniel’s three friends?”
“Yep.”
At least this part looked easier to read than the section he’d been trying to get through. This book described events just as crazy and impossible as the book of Daniel, yet Leith found he couldn’t stop reading and couldn’t help but hope it might be true, despite King Respen’s insistence that it wasn’t.
Dare (The Blades of Acktar Book 1) Page 13
