Defy (The Blades of Acktar Book 3)

by Tricia Mingerink

  But, no. He was a Blade and not worthy of their trust.

  While Shad and Lady Lorraine explained to the others about the five Blades and Leith’s plan, Leith changed out of his black clothes and dressed in a set of tan trousers and shirt. In the treeless Waste, his black clothes would soak in the sun and roast him.

  He unsaddled Big Brown and swung the saddle onto Blizzard’s back. In the tough country he’d ride through, he wanted his own horse.

  Sorting through his packs, he left in only the essentials. As he finished strapping on the saddlebags, Brandi wandered over to him. She carried a bulging waterskin. He took it from her and hoisted it across the saddlebags.

  Brandi wrapped her arms around his waist. “I don’t want you to go.”

  Leith hugged her tightly. If only he didn’t have to go. He gripped Brandi’s shoulders and waited until she met his gaze. “God willing, I’ll be back before you even miss me. I’ll lose the Blades, we’ll get to Eagle Heights, and we’ll rescue Renna.”

  She blinked up at him and cleared her throat. “Take care of Blizzard.”

  Leith grinned. “I promise. And you take care of Big Brown for me.” He unbuckled the knife he’d strapped to his waist, the same knife he’d given to Renna all those months ago. Leith held it out to Brandi. “It wouldn’t hurt to wear this.”

  She took it and nodded. “All right.”

  After one last pat on her shoulder, Leith led Blizzard to the edge of camp. There, Jamie leaned against a tree. He held out three canteens. “I should go with you.”

  Leith clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m depending on you to keep an eye on things here. A few of the Blades will continue to track this group, and you’ll be the only one with enough knowledge of the Blades to help Shad stop them.”

  Jamie straightened his shoulders, rested his hand on his knife, and nodded. “I understand. I’ll watch out for Brandi.”

  “Thanks.” Leith tied the canteens to his saddle and swung onto Blizzard. Across the camp, Shad lifted his hand in a wave. Leith waved back, turned, and pointed Blizzard’s nose east toward the Waste.

  5

  Leith had left her too.

  Brandi clenched her fists to stop the tears building in her chest. Across their camp, Jolene wrapped her arms around Shad’s waist. He leaned his face into her hair and pulled her closer.

  Swallowing, Brandi turned away. That should be Leith and Renna, if Leith would stop dragging his feet. Was Renna all right? Or had she already broken without Brandi there to hold her together?

  Why did everyone Brandi loved have to die? She’d barely known her Uncle Leon, Aunt Deirdre, and her cousins Aengus, Keevan, Rorin, and Duncan. Her parents had died not long after. Uncle Abel and Aunt Mara had been executed. Now Renna was stuck at Nalgar Castle, and Leith was riding into the Waste.

  Neither of them would survive. Leith said they’d be fine, but Brandi didn’t believe him. No one would be fine.

  She used to believe in miracles. Nothing could hurt her and Renna. They’d be like Daniel, kept safe by God’s angels no matter what the evil king did.

  But perhaps they were more like Stephen. Brandi wrapped her arms around her stomach. She’d never liked the story of Stephen being stoned to death. It didn’t make sense. Why would God let Stephen die when He could’ve saved him?

  Brandi squeezed the sheathed knife tighter in her hands. Renna hadn’t been able to protect them the last time they’d been attacked by a Blade, but Renna hadn’t known how to use the knife. Even if she’d had a chance, Renna wasn’t a fighter.

  But Brandi wasn’t Renna.

  In the dungeon when Leith had come to rescue them, Brandi had searched for a weapon and tried to fight. But she hadn’t known how, and Renna kept getting in her way.

  Next time, Brandi would fight back.

  Strapping the knife to the sash around her waist, Brandi marched to Jamie and placed her fists on her hips. “Teach me how to fight.”

  “What?” Jamie tore his gaze from the trees and stared at her.

  She rolled her eyes. Was Jamie deaf? “I want to learn how to fight. I don’t want to be helpless while someone else protects me all the time.”

  That hadn’t worked so well for Renna. Brandi touched the hilt of the knife Leith had given her. If something happened to Leith, it’d be up to Brandi to rescue Renna.

  Jamie still gaped at her. Across the hollow, Shad ordered everyone back into the saddle. Brandi tapped her foot. She wasn’t going to let Jamie move until he agreed.

  His shoulders slumped. “All right. I’ll teach you to fight. We’ll start after supper tonight.”

  Brandi clenched her fists. Finally she’d be able to do something.

  If only she could devour her supper and crawl into her blankets. Her bones ached with the long ride. Instead, Brandi followed Jamie to a dark corner of their camp under the spreading branches of a pine. Lydia glanced at her, but neither she nor Jolene tried to follow her. Not after Brandi had brushed them off in their earlier attempts. They might be Renna’s friends, but they couldn’t try to fill in for her sister.

  Jamie crossed his arms. “First we need to work on your walk.”

  “What’s wrong with the way I walk?” Brandi stared down at her feet. She didn’t see anything wrong.

  “You make too much noise.” Jamie scowled. “You’re too small to fight like a soldier so I’m going to teach you to fight like a Blade. To do it, you have to be able to sneak like a Blade.”

  “Does this make me like a Blade trainee or something? I mean, you’re the Thirteenth Blade, or you were. And you’re training me.” She cocked her head and held up the knife. She probably didn’t look as impressive as she felt.

  Jamie’s scowl grew. “No.”

  “Oh, come on. Of course I’m a Blade trainee.” Brandi spread her arms out and tottered forward on her toes. That was pretty quiet, right?

  Jamie scrubbed his forehead with his palm. “You’re still prancing about like a horse.”

  She scowled. He was supposed to be helping her, not making rude comments. “Well, how am I supposed to walk?”

  “Pretend the ground is sharp. Walk like you don’t want to put weight on your feet.” Jamie eased forward, toes first, heels afterwards. “Feel your way forward with your toes and don’t put your feet all the way down until you’re sure you won’t snap any sticks.”

  Brandi tried it. After a few minutes, she kind of got the hang of it. At least, Jamie stopped looking at her like she had the feet of an ox and the brain of a squirrel. “Now what?”

  “Now I’ll show you a few basic things you can do if someone comes at you with a knife.” Jamie stepped closer to her, a stick in his hand. He handed her a stick.

  He showed her how to smack a knife away from her body and lunge forward with her own knife aimed at an opponent’s stomach. By the time Brandi fell into her blankets that night, her arms straggled limply at her side while her back ached with bruises from landing on the dirt.

  But for the first time since Leith had dragged her away from Renna, she felt almost happy.

  6

  Renna eased weight onto her left leg. A flutter of pain throbbed through the bone. She gritted her teeth, limped another step, and touched the wall above the washstand. As much as it hurt, she had to grit through it. When Leith returned to rescue her, she needed to have her strength back.

  The lock rattled. She stiffened. It wasn’t time for Martyn to bring her meal.

  She turned as the door swung open. Martyn stood in the doorway. “Come.”

  “Where are we going?” Renna gripped one of Martyn’s shoulders. His height stretched her arm above her head.

  “You’ll see.” He pulled her from the room. She stumbled and caught herself against the door jamb.

  Why wouldn’t Martyn tell her where they were going? She hopped down the hallway, leaning against Martyn. What was Respen planning?

  On the second floor, Martyn halted. Renna leaned against the wall and gasped for breath. She peered at M
artyn. He didn’t look pale like he had before. “How’s your back?”

  “Healing.”

  He helped her hop down the last two sets of stairs and across the common room. As they crossed the wooden bridge, Renna caught her breath. They had to be heading for the king’s apartments. Would Respen taunt her again? Did he have news about Leith or Brandi?

  As they reached the passageway, Renna hopped toward the winding staircase to Respen’s chambers. Might as well get Respen’s taunts over with as quickly as possible.

  “No, we’re going this way.” Martyn pulled her down the passageway toward the opening that spilled onto the green lawn of the Queen’s Court, named for one of Acktar’s queens who’d insisted she wanted grass inside the castle instead of only stone.

  Renna’s foot snagged on a stone. She tripped forward and set her injured leg down to catch herself. Pain shot up her shin. She cried out.

  Martyn’s arm wrapped around her waist and set her back on her good leg. She glanced at his face, but his eyes remained cold and blank.

  A lump formed in her throat. Leith would’ve asked if she was all right.

  As they exited the dark passageway, Renna blinked at the courtyard spread before her. A tiered fountain spat water into the sky, surrounded by a lush, green lawn unlike any she’d seen in Acktar. How much work did it take to keep this lawn so green during the height of Acktar’s summer?

  Martyn led her on a bluestone path that cut through the lawn, rounded the fountain, and ended at a wide, brick staircase on the other side. The staircase branched into two wings of apartments set into the outer wall of Nalgar Castle filled with lavish chambers reserved for visiting nobility.

  Renna closed her eyes. Last time she’d been here—nearly six years ago now—it’d been mid-winter, the stairway decorated with pine boughs from the Sheered Rock Hills, the courtyard still and silent. She, Brandi, and their cousins Rorin and Duncan built a row of snowmen by the fountain, though Keevan had whacked their heads off with his sword.

  The rest of the castle, it held few memories. She’d been too young to wander the castle alone. But this courtyard and these suites of rooms? She’d stayed here with her parents. She’d played in the Queen’s Court with Brandi, Rorin, and Duncan.

  “This way.” Martyn tugged her up the stairs to the landing on top. The arrow slits set into the outer wall overlooked a grassy slope, the Blades’ Tower off to her left.

  Before she had a chance to enjoy the view of the world outside Nalgar Castle, Martyn hauled her to her right, down a short passage, and into one of the rooms overlooking the Queen’s Court.

  Wooden paneling covered the stone walls. A four-poster bed of some dark wood dominated one corner, a blue dress spread out on top of it. Near it, a fireplace, complete with a low fire dancing behind the grate, warmed the stones that remained cool despite the summer heat outside. On the hearth, a large tub of water wafted steam and the scent of sage into the air. Towels and soap waited on the chair set next to the metal tub.

  “What’s going on?” She was still a prisoner, right?

  Martyn pulled away from her grip. “I’ll be outside so you can’t escape. Don’t take too long.” He shut the door behind him, the lock clicking into place.

  Renna didn’t move. What was Respen’s game now? She hopped to the broad windows and peered out. The Queen’s Court spread below her, Respen’s chambers and the Great Hall across the lawn. She scowled. Even if she could fashion a rope and climb out the window, she’d still be trapped.

  The smell of warm water and soap taunted her nose, a sharp contrast to her own unwashed odor. That probably explained all this. At this point, her stench would torture Respen more than it did her. Perhaps Brandi would’ve tried just that, but Renna would rather be clean.

  She eyed the tub, then the doorway. How long would Martyn give her? She searched the room, but none of the furniture appeared small enough for her to move by herself and large enough to prevent the door from opening.

  Shrugging, she pulled all the drapes shut. She wasn’t going to miss the chance for a bath. She’d just have to be quick.

  She scrubbed herself until the water turned the color of rain-soaked mud. After drying, she tried on the blue dress. The silk fell in soft waves around her. The hem dragged a few inches on the ground, but the waist and bodice fit well enough. Renna checked the curved neckline. Not low-cut and revealing like she would’ve expected.

  With her injured leg, she couldn’t twirl. Instead, she swished the skirt back and forth, watching the silk flow and glimmer. What would Leith think if he could see her in this dress?

  Would he even notice?

  Then again, if Leith was here, he’d be too busy rescuing her to care what she wore.

  She turned away from the mirror. Enough daydreams. She needed to concentrate if she was going to face Respen.

  On the bed she found two smooth sticks and linen bandages. After wrapping her ankle and calf with the new splint, she brushed her hair and paused in front of the dressing table mirror. In the light filtering between the drapes, her damp hair shone with golden streaks and framed her face, now pale without its layer of dirt.

  She forced herself to smile. There. She looked almost elegant, like she fit the part of Lady Rennelda Faythe, lady of Stetterly, rather than the grimy captive she’d been for the past weeks.

  After attempting to gracefully limp across the room, she knocked on the door. It swung open. Martyn eyed her for several seconds before giving a sharp nod. “Let’s go.”

  As they retraced their steps down the stairs and across the courtyard, Renna held her head high. If she looked like a lady, perhaps she’d have the courage to act like a lady.

  Martyn knocked on Respen’s door and was rewarded with a terse “Enter” from inside. While Martyn held the door open for her, Renna grasped the too-long skirt and did her best to hop-limp into the room.

  King Respen stood in the same spot he’d been when he’d executed Uncle Abel and Aunt Mara, peering out the window into the cobblestone courtyard, his hands clasped behind his back.

  In the center of the room, a table had been set up with two chairs and a blue tablecloth draped over it. Silver platters of food covered the center of the table in an artful arrangement, two candlesticks poking between them. China plates marked each spot while the silver table settings marched in neat rows on either side.

  Cherry-glazed pork, buttered green beans, corn, and puffy rolls with several kinds of jams lay next to it…her nose tingled with the smells.

  Respen turned from the window and strolled across the room. He gave her a short bow and waved a hand toward the table. “Have a seat.”

  She stared at the food. Something was wrong. Respen didn’t act this way. He must have something to gloat about. Or…she swallowed hard. “I’m not going to eat anything.”

  He snorted. “If I wanted to poison you, I would not waste such extravagant food to do it.”

  She limped to the table and allowed him to pull the chair out for her. She eyed the food. Respen did have a point. Poison wasn’t his style. Too subtle. Not enough blood. Besides, if he wanted to poison her, he could do it just as easily in her cell as here.

  He slipped into the chair across from her. The candlelight danced in his dark eyes and played along his shiny black hair and pointed beard. If it weren’t for the evil lurking behind that gaze, Respen might’ve been a handsome man.

  As Respen reached to spoon food onto her plate, she drew in a deep breath. She’d faced this dilemma before, when Leith had been healing in their kitchen from an arrow wound. He’d been a Blade then, and praying in front of him might’ve gotten her and Brandi arrested.

  What did it matter now? She’d been arrested. Respen already planned to execute her. What else could he do to her?

  She peeked at Respen as he dished a slice of pork onto his own plate. Was this her purpose in remaining behind at Nalgar Castle? Was she supposed to witness to King Respen, the sworn enemy of the church in Acktar?

 
Brandi would do it. Renna cleared her throat. Respen’s dark eyes flicked towards her. A chill curled in her stomach. “I’m going to pray before I eat.”

  She bowed her head and squeezed her eyes shut before she could see Respen’s reaction. Brandi would’ve prayed out loud, but Renna didn’t have enough courage for that. She silently prayed for God’s courage to face whatever Respen had planned for her.

  When she opened her eyes, she found Respen staring at her. “You defy my expectations. I thought I had broken you of that habit by now.”

  “If I’d been relying on my strength, then yes, you would’ve.” She swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. “But God gives me the strength to persevere.”

  She’d always been taught that God preserved the faith of His people, that no child of God could ever permanently lose their faith. What did that mean for Respen? He’d attended the church in Blathe years ago. Had he never truly had faith? Or was it possible—however unlikely it seemed—that he’d temporarily wandered away but could regain it again?

  He raised both eyebrows at her and picked up his fork. “Eat.”

  Lifting her own fork, she dug into the pork, beans, corn, and roll laid out on her plate. She ate small portions of each, knowing better than to eat too much rich food after her diet of bread and water for the past weeks.

  When she finished, she rested her fork on the edge of her plate and leaned back in her chair. Respen had already finished his food and stared at her with his dark, flat eyes. She squirmed and met his gaze. “What do you want from me? You aren’t the type to go to all this trouble unless you want something.”

  He tapped his fingers on the edge of the table. “I have a proposition for you, Lady Rennelda, one that I think will gain us both what we want.”

  What would do that? She picked up her glass. “I won’t agree.”

  “You have not heard my offer yet.” Respen’s deep voice rang, as if he already knew she’d agree to whatever he had planned. “I want an end to this rebellion. You want an end to what you call a persecution, is that correct?”