Defy (The Blades of Acktar Book 3)

by Tricia Mingerink

  Harding hesitated. Less than a year ago, Leith had been the Third Blade and Harding only the Nineteenth Blade. He was now the Eighth Blade but inherited rank didn’t give him the skills to face Leith.

  Harding’s grip tightened on his knife’s hilt. “What do you want?” His voice cracked.

  Leith moved his hand away from his knife and held up the medical kit and his canteen. “I’m here to make sure you stop following these people and to tend your wound.”

  Fresh blood stained Harding’s shirt under his hand, but he shook his head, drew his knife, and pointed it at Leith. “No. Why should I trust you? You’ve probably come to kill me.”

  “Ranson.” Leith switched to Harding’s first name. “You know me better than that. I know you do. I trained you, but I was never cruel the way Vane was.”

  Ranson swayed, but his knife remained steady.

  What had Leith ever done to make Ranson fear him like this? Nothing that he could remember, but perhaps it wasn’t Leith Ranson feared. Respen and the Blades had taught him to expect a knife in the back.

  Leith would have to do the unexpected. He slowly drew his knives from the sheaths across his chest and placed them on the ground. While Ranson still eyed him, he set the rest of his knives down as well.

  He stepped forward and held out his hands, palm up. “I know I betrayed Respen, and I have betrayed the Blades. I know you have little reason to trust me. But I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Now place your weapons on the ground.”

  Ranson’s knife wavered, then lowered. He laid it on the ground and added the rest of his knives to the pile.

  Leith knelt and opened the medical kit. If Renna was here, she’d do a much better job, but Leith could at least do the basics. Mostly.

  Ranson eased into a sitting position across from him and pulled his shirt over his head. A bloody cloth wrapped around his torso over his ribs. He tugged the bandage free, revealing a gash along his lowest rib for about six inches, deep enough for Leith to catch a glimpse of white bone in the red blood.

  Leith grimaced. That wound needed stitches. He could do it, but it wouldn’t be neat and tidy the way Renna’s stitches would’ve been. But, he wouldn’t ask Ranson to cauterize the wound.

  Ranson shifted and stared at his wound. “I know I should’ve stitched it. I tried, but…”

  “It’s not so easy on yourself.” Leith tugged out the small flask of alcohol in the medical kit. “I need you to lie down.”

  Ranson hesitated. “Why are you helping me? You should be glad I’m injured. You should kill me. I hunted you and hunted your friends.”

  Leith weighed the flask in his hand. “Last winter when I was hurt, Renna helped me when it would’ve been easier to let me die. She and Brandi taught me about grace and forgiveness. When I returned to Nalgar Castle, I failed to tell you and Blane and Martyn and any of the other Blades who would listen. So I’m showing you now by helping you as Renna once helped me.”

  Ranson studied his face for several minutes before he lay down with one arm resting behind his head.

  Leith dumped some of the alcohol over Ranson’s wound. Ranson flinched. He pressed his mouth shut, though a moan still caught in his throat. Leith gritted his teeth. How did Renna manage to stay so calm while tending others’ wounds? Leith would rather take the wounds himself than have to watch someone else suffer.

  After cleaning the wound, Leith threaded the needle with silk thread. “Perhaps it’d be better if you came down to the cave. I’m sure Lady Lorraine or Lady Alistair or Lydia could do a much better job at this.”

  Ranson’s eyes widened as he shook his head. “No. They wouldn’t want me down there. Not after Kent killed one of the girls. They’d kill me.”

  “No, they wouldn’t. Not once I explained.” Leith met Ranson’s gaze. “Come with us. You could escape slavery to Respen. You wouldn’t have to kill anymore.”

  “And be hunted, like you are?” Ranson shook his head, his brown hair thrashing against his skull.

  “I’m free from Respen’s orders. I don’t have to kill to keep him from killing me.” Leith hurt with the fear he saw in Ranson’s eyes. Only God could fill that emptiness. “I don’t fear Respen. God is more powerful.”

  Ranson stared at him. His gaze contained the same fear that had kept Leith loyal and obedient to King Respen through the bloodshed of thirty-five of his marks.

  His gaze dropped from Leith’s. “I can’t.”

  Leith hung his head. Ranson couldn’t shake his loyalty to Respen. He’d rather return as a failed Blade than go with Leith to the Resistance.

  Leith stitched Ranson’s wound closed as best he could. The jagged stitches were nothing fancy, but they’d hold well enough. He slapped some salve on it and tied on a bandage.

  Sitting up, Ranson reached for his shirt and tugged it over his head.

  Leith packed the medical kit, stood, and held out a hand to Ranson. “When you return to Nalgar, could you check on Renna? If you get a chance.”

  “I’ll try.” Ranson took Leith’s hand.

  Leith pulled him to his feet. Some of the color had returned to Ranson’s face. “If that wound starts bothering you, she’ll help you. All you have to do is ask.”

  “I’ll remember. Though, I doubt I’ll get anywhere near her. You know how the king is about prisoners.” Ranson retreated toward his pile of weapons.

  “If you get a chance, tell Blane too.” Would Blane Altin be willing to listen? When Leith had trained both Blane and Ranson, those two trainees had formed a friendship as close as the one Leith used to have with Martyn.

  Leith pulled two knives from his pile and tossed them to the ground near Ranson. He forced his voice to go hard. “Tell Respen I survived the Waste. Craven didn’t. Don’t try to follow us. We’ll capture you if you do.”

  Gathering the knives, Ranson gave Leith a nod and hiked down the slope. A few minutes later, he emerged from a stand of trees, mounted on his horse. Leith watched from the bluff as Ranson rode south.

  When Ranson reached Nalgar, Respen would know without a doubt that his only means to catch Leith was Renna. He’d tried to send his Blades, but they’d failed and would fail again now that they’d lost Leith’s trail. Respen would have no choice but to keep Renna alive as bait.

  How was she? Would Ranson find a way to talk to her? If nothing else, he’d be able to reassure her that Leith and Brandi had gotten away.

  When Ranson was out of sight, Leith hiked down the slope, nodded at the sentries, and ducked inside the cave. He found Shad brushing his chestnut horse. Leith dug out a brush and rubbed it along Blizzard’s ridged spine. Leith grimaced at how thin his horse felt below his hands. Blizzard’s fur outlined each of his ribs along his sides. Still, Blizzard paused in munching on the bundle of grass to nibble at the end of Leith’s shirt. Leith rubbed the horse’s forehead.

  “Did you find the Blade tracking us?” Shad smoothed a hand over his horse’s glossy fur.

  “Yep.” Leith ran the brush over Blizzard’s fur. “He’s returning to Nalgar Castle. I’ll keep an eye out, but he’s gone for good.”

  “That’ll make traveling easier from here.” Shad patted his horse’s neck and set the brush aside. “I didn’t want to go any farther until the Blade was gone. We don’t have that far to go.”

  Leith’s stomach gave a lurch. What would happen once they reached Eagle Heights? Shad trusted him, but would the Resistance leaders? Or would they want to kill him on sight?

  If even they didn’t like having a Blade in their midst, they couldn’t refuse to help Renna. They’d rally for her sake. That’s all that really mattered.

  Hopefully Renna could hold on for a little longer, and Leith would be able to return with an army to rescue her.

  He brushed Blizzard until the last speck of dust from the Waste had been combed out. Blizzard finished his own pile of grass and starting on the pile of the horse next to him. That horse nipped at Blizzard, but Blizzard bared his teeth and flattened his ears. The other
horse backed away.

  Jamie slipped next to Leith and dumped another armful of grass in front of Blizzard. Leith rested a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “Thank you for looking out for Brandi.”

  Jamie scuffed his toe in the sand. “I didn’t do a very good job.”

  Leith stopped brushing Blizzard. Something in Jamie’s tone sank a stone into his stomach. Did this have something to do with the strange look Jamie and Brandi had shared the night before? Leith had barely been alert, but Brandi hadn’t seemed herself. Nor had she spoken to him all morning. He’d assumed she was missing Renna, and probably still angry at Leith for dragging her away, but was there more to it?

  Jamie met his gaze. “Brandi’s the one who killed Seventh Blade Kent. I tried to stop him, but he knocked me to the ground. I thought he was going to kill me, but he turned to kill Brandi. He thought he could get to her before I had a chance to get to my feet and didn’t expect her to use her knife.”

  Leith hung his head. Brandi had been forced to kill. Leith should’ve recognized the mixture of guilt and confusion clouding her expression. “How did she know to defend herself? I gave her a knife, but I didn’t have time to show her how to use it.”

  Jamie’s boot scuffed through the sand again. “I’ve been teaching her. She asked me to right after you left.”

  Leith’s head pounded. Brandi—bubbly, carefree Brandi—had blood on her hands. That changed a person. How much would it change her?

  He squeezed Jamie’s shoulder. “Thanks for telling me. I’ll talk to her.”

  Jamie’s shoulders and back hunched. He’d done an admirable job of bearing a man’s burden while Leith had been gone, but Leith was here to carry it now. He rested his head against Blizzard’s shoulder. If he was strong enough.

  19

  Brandi hunched in a corner and ate her supper in silence. More venison. Of course. It seems all they had lately. If it wasn’t venison, then it was elk or bison, and they really all tasted about the same.

  She glanced at Jamie and Leith as they worked their way through their plates of food. In Leith’s case, it was his second large plateful.

  Once she’d gotten over her relief that Leith was all right, she’d avoided him. Not that it’d done any good. She’d spotted Jamie talking to him earlier. By now, Jamie had probably tattled her secret, and Leith knew exactly who had killed that Blade.

  When she finished her supper, she scurried to the corner where a bowl-shaped rock formed a place to wash dishes. As she reached to scrub her plate, Leith appeared beside her. He took her plate and placed it with his to the side. “I have something I’d like to show you.”

  “But I have to wash my plate.” She lunged around him for the dishes.

  He hooked an arm around her waist, stopping her. “Trust me. You’ll like this.”

  Shoot. Now he’d done it. What did he want to show her? Guess she’d have to go along to find out. She’d be forever wondering if she didn’t.

  Leith grabbed a torch, lit it, and led the way to the back of the cave. A black slit cracked the rock, gasping cold air at their faces. Brandi shivered. Shad had warned everyone to stay away from this opening to prevent people from wandering into the depths of the cave and becoming lost. “Do you know where you’re going?”

  Leith grinned. “I’ve been here several times. As long as you stick with me, you won’t get lost.” He stepped into the crack, turning sideways to ease though the opening. Brandi followed right on his heels.

  The opening widened until they could walk side by side. The torchlight flickered over the brown, stone walls that rose in undulating rolls on either side of them. Leith remained silent as they hiked down the long tunnel.

  Brandi’s legs ached from the downward hike by the time the tunnel dumped them into a large cavern. Jumbles of rocks littered the floor while the ceiling rose into darkness above them. The rocks glowed pink, yellow, and green in the wavering torchlight. Brandi craned her neck back and gaped at the colors surrounding her.

  The light twinkled in Leith’s eyes. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He led her on a winding path through the tumbled boulders until they reached a small opening set low in the wall. Leith crouched on his hands and knees and crawled into the opening, inching the torch forward to prevent dropping it.

  Brandi scrambled after him. Her buckskin, divided skirt tangled around her legs. If she were a boy, she could wear trousers. They were much more suited to adventures than skirts.

  The rock and soil beneath her fingers grew damp, though she couldn’t see much besides Leith’s silhouette ahead of her. They were still headed down, deeper into the heart of the Hills.

  “We’re almost there.” Leith’s voice echoed oddly in the confined space.

  She shuffled forward until her fingertips brushed the toes of Leith’s boots. The darkness pressed around her. How much rock piled on top of them? She shivered and focused her eyes on the torch bobbing ahead.

  Leith scrambled and stood up. His hand reached down, and Brandi grasped it, letting him tug her to her feet. They stood in a round section of the cave. As Leith lifted the torch, the walls sparkled as if covered with fluffy balls of fresh snow.

  Leith led her forward. They crunched across the crystals and turned the corner. Brandi gazed upward and gasped.

  All around them, the mounds of glittering crystals rose toward a black, vaulted ceiling. Rock poured down the sides in frozen, rock waterfalls. The sparkling crystals grew around the spindly dribbles. The entire cavern flowed and glittered, orange and white, smooth and spiky.

  “This is so beautiful.” She turned in a slow circle. So much to take in. If she blinked, she might miss part of the otherworldly scenery surrounding her.

  Jabbing the torch into the dirt, Leith led her to a rock near the center of the cavern. They both sat and leaned their heads against the rock, staring upward where the light disappeared into the vastness above them. The waterfalls of rock drooled over and through the puffs of white sparkles.

  So much beauty so deep below the earth where few people would ever see it. God had formed each of these crystals, these spindles of rock, in this unseen place. So much attention to detail simply for His own pleasure. She tried to gulp in the majesty of it but couldn’t.

  “Jamie told me you killed the Seventh Blade.” Leith’s voice was pitched so low the cavern nearly overwhelmed it.

  Brandi shivered and rubbed her arms. “Yes.”

  “A part of you feels all shaken and scared, but another part of you feels normal, too normal. You worry because you think you should feel more shaken.” Leith’s eyes remained focused on the vista above them.

  He’d described her jittery feelings exactly. Then again, he should know. He’d first killed years ago. She hugged her knees to her chest. “How old were you when you killed someone?”

  Leith lifted his right sleeve, exposing the white scars marching in parallel lines down his arm. He touched the first scar, the one cutting across the top of his arm. “I was thirteen, younger than you. Both of the other boys Respen had raised had already killed. I was the only one who hadn’t. He told me if I didn’t kill my target this time, he’d kill me.”

  “So you killed someone.” Brandi tightened her grip on her knees. She could taste the fear of being backed into a dead end gully and feeling like there was no choice but to come out fighting.

  He nodded. “And became a Blade.”

  She rested her chin on her arms. Would she go down the same path Leith had?

  Leith’s green eyes focused on her. “If you hadn’t killed him, he would’ve killed you and Jamie. If Jamie had pulled the same move you did, the Seventh Blade would’ve been expecting it and blocked it. You saved both your lives.”

  “Then why do I feel so…” Brandi squeezed her eyes shut. What word described the messiness bundled inside her? “Dirty?”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her head against his chest. Brandi fought the tears that came unbidden from that painful part inside her. She shou
ldn’t cry. Not now. Not ever.

  “It’s all right to cry. It’s just the two of us here. No one else will hear you.” Leith rubbed her back. Just like Uncle Abel used to.

  Her tears surged into a tide she couldn’t hold back. Uncle Abel was gone. Aunt Mara. Renna. Leith was here right now, but he’d leave her eventually to go rescue Renna. He wasn’t about to let her go along.

  Even God felt far away. She’d never felt this distant from God before. When her parents died, Uncle Abel told her they were with Jesus in Heaven, so she set out to learn all she could. When she missed her parents, she paged through the Bible they’d given her and think about them walking the golden streets, stopping to talk with Daniel or David or one of the angels. The Bible stories were so precious because they told her about the people her parents now knew.

  For some reason, it wasn’t working this time. Respen had burned her Bible, and she’d lost whatever grip she’d had on her faith since childhood. Would she ever grasp it again? Faith and trust were as slippery as the fish she’d tried to catch with her fingers once. No matter how quickly she pinched her fingers, the fish always slid through, only a brief brush of scales tingling her skin.

  Sobs shook her body and tore out her throat. She pressed her face against Leith’s shoulder and curled her fingers into the soft fabric of his shirt. Tears burned her eyes and cheeks, but she couldn’t stop them. Everything inside her poured out through her tears. Would she even have anything left when she finished?

  The rush of tears ended. She tried a few more sobs, just to make sure she’d gotten everything out. When her eyes didn’t prickle, she let out one last shaky breath and went quiet. She was empty, but empty was better than the pain of before.

  She sniffed and scrubbed her running nose on her sleeve. After all the tears she’d shed, her eyes itched as if they’d been rubbed with dust.

  “Do you know any Bible stories about people who had to fight?” Leith adjusted his arm around her back. “I don’t remember any, but I still have a bunch of the Bible to read yet.”