Leith shouldn’t let Jamie carry such a burden. But Jamie had been forced to grow up too fast, and he wouldn’t like being told to act like a child when he wasn’t one anymore. “So where are you staying?”
“I’m sharing a room with Jeremiah Alistair.” Jamie’s grimace contorted his nose and mouth. “He’s…different. All he does is read. And study. He already knows he wants to be a minister someday, so he knows lots of stuff about the Bible. At least he didn’t ask any questions about my mark. And he let me borrow a book to read. Something about famous sermons in history.”
Another pair of boots joined the guards, and Shad’s voice rang through the opening. After a moment, Shad shuffled inside, his customary bow, arrows, and sword missing from his quiver and belt.
Jamie ducked his head. “I’d better go. I should keep Brandi company.”
“Can you tell her…” Leith’s throat closed. What did he want Jamie to tell her? What could he say besides sorry? Again?
Jamie nodded. “I’ll make sure she knows.” He scurried from the cave.
Shad lounged against the wall. “How’re you holding up?”
“Except for the lack of a mattress, this is actually nicer than my room at Nalgar Castle.” Leith waved his bound hands toward the entrance. “I have light, fresh air, and visitors.”
“I’ve tried everything I can think of, but Prince Keevan won’t listen to me. Maybe he would’ve listened to my father, but not me.” Shad’s hand closed over the empty space where his sword’s hilt normally hung.
“It’s fine. I didn’t expect much of a welcome. Do you remember how suspicious you were at first? Your father called me a rattlesnake.” That’s what Leith was to Prince Keevan. A rattlesnake curled in front of his face.
“I remember. Father said he couldn’t be sure which side you’d bite.” Shad shook his head. “But you’ve proven you’re on our side.”
Leith shrugged as much as he could with his hands tied. “My past isn’t easy to forget.” Or forgive. Or leave in the past. Would he always carry blood on his hands?
“He agreed to let you attend church services today.” Shad’s jaw relaxed into a small smile. “He couldn’t deny that request no matter how much he wanted to.”
Just like Abel Lachlan hadn’t been able to refuse that same request months ago. Leith glanced down at his rumpled, black clothes and grimaced. “Hopefully in some out of the way spot where no one will notice that I haven’t had a bath in a week.”
Shad’s smile widened into a grin. “Why do you think I’m here so early? You can’t show up to church looking like that.”
He helped Leith up and out of the cave. Outside, they were surrounded by ten guards. Leith resisted the urge to laugh. Prince Keevan wasn’t taking any chances with the Blade he still deemed dangerous.
They escorted him to a cabin set off to the side. Untying his hands, they pushed him inside and locked the door after him. A tub of water stood along one wall, a chair with a towel and soap next to it. A table held a new set of clothes. Surveying the room, he noted the lack of windows. No way for him to escape other than the door. Not that he had any plans to escape, but he liked to know where he stood.
He hurried through the bath, the water so cold it had most likely been taken from the spring without any effort to heat it. After drying, he pulled on a pair of brown trousers and green shirt. Shad’s spare set, if Leith guessed correctly. They’d fit Shad much better than they fit him. The shoulder seams hung partway down Leith’s upper arms while the ends of the sleeves dangled a good four inches past his fingertips. His belt did an adequate job of holding the trousers up, but he had to roll the ends several inches so he could walk.
He looked ridiculous. But at least he didn’t look like a Blade. Blades didn’t get the best reception around here.
When he knocked, the guard unlocked and swung the door open. Shad brushed past the guards and shut the door behind him. He crossed his arms and smirked. “You look like a kid trying on his father’s clothes.”
Leith grimaced. He’d never done anything like that. His father would’ve beaten him for such foolishness. Not that he’d want to put on his father’s shirt. It had always reeked of alcohol and sweat. He held up the sleeves. “If you weren’t such a giant, these would fit better.”
Shad pulled out a length of rope. “I’m sorry about this.”
“Better you than one of the guards.” Leith held out his wrists. Shad tied the rope so loosely Leith would have to be careful he didn’t accidentally slip his hands free.
When he was bound once again, Shad strode beside him to the clearing at the top of the mountain. Shad motioned him to a bench set underneath a tree at the back of the clearing. As Leith slid onto the bench, Brandi tiptoed over and slid onto the bench beside him.
Heart in his throat, Leith raised his eyebrows at her.
Scuffing her toes in the dirt, Brandi sneaked a peek his way. “I haven’t forgiven you. But keeping you locked in that cave is silly. You’re on our side.”
It was the best he could ask for at the moment. “Thanks, Brandi.” Leith gave her a smile.
Shad and his family gathered on the bench beside and in front of Leith. At first, Leith didn’t think anything of it, until he noticed the guards from Walden who had traveled with him to Eagle Heights also sat in the benches surrounding him. Lady Lorraine slipped into the seat next to Brandi, though Jolene sat next to Shad.
Trailed by his general, Prince Keevan strolled into the clearing, a young woman clinging to his arm. He glanced at Leith. Leith gave the prince a nod, the best bow he could do sitting down with his hands tied.
Brandi had her arms crossed as she glared at Prince Keevan. When the prince continued down the aisle to the front row reserved for him, Brandi leaned closer to Leith. “That’s his wife, Princess Adelaide. Apparently she was just a servant girl when they met. I heard she saved his life after…” she trailed off, slicing her finger down her cheek and throat.
“After I tried to kill him.” Leith shook his head and glanced at the couple. Prince Keevan helped his wife into her seat, the fabric of her dress pulling taut over a rounded figure.
“Oh, and she’s pregnant,” Brandi added, her voice edging above a whisper. After a few more minutes of silence, she leaned closer once again. “Did you know there are whole villages at the bottom of this mountain? There’re several church services being held down there right now because not everyone can fit up here.”
“No, I didn’t.” Leith quirked a smile at her. This was more like the old Brandi. “Locked in a cave, remember?”
She gave him an exaggerated scowl and roll of her eyes. She might’ve said something more, but the minister strode to the front of the gathering and climbed onto a table, which made him visible even to the back of the clearing.
After a few songs, the minister announced the Bible passage. Brandi pulled out a Bible and flipped to the passage. She held it out so Leith could see it as well. He steadied it with his bound hands.
As the minister read, the second to last verse caught Leith’s attention. The words sparked in his chest. From henceforth let no man trouble me: for I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus.
Marks. Leith had marks. Thirty-seven of them. All showing his slavery to Respen and darkness. Even now, those marks still had power over him. They were the reason he’d spent the last three days in a cave. In the eyes of others, he’d always be unworthy of anything besides bound hands and guards.
What about the marks of Jesus Christ? Did Leith have those? His heart felt marked, branded with Christ’s ownership. But, as the minister expounded in his sermon, the marks in the verse were the marks of persecution. The physical scars that testified of the inner marks.
Leith shrugged his left shoulder with its two marks for his recent failures. Were they proof enough of his inner marks for him to declare that no one should trouble him about his past?
The writer of that verse was Paul, a betrayer of Christians turned preacher. He had a guilty
past. His fellow Christians had feared him because of the things he’d done. But Paul’s proof of his sincerity was the scars he’d received for Christ. No one could question him any longer.
Would Leith ever be able to declare the marks of his salvation so boldly? He didn’t think so. The thirty-seven marks on his right arm outweighed the two small marks on his left.
Leith stumbled his way through the final song. He was starting to get a grip on this whole singing thing, but he couldn’t belt the songs out as fearlessly as Shad and Brandi.
As the congregation filed from their seats, a dust-covered rider stumbled into the clearing. General Stewart and the rider conversed for a few minutes before the general slapped the man on the back and headed to Prince Keevan.
When General Stewart spoke in the prince’s ear, Prince Keevan stiffened, and his wife’s grip tightened on his arm. After a few minutes, he patted Princess Adelaide’s hand, and she left. General Stewart and Prince Keevan threaded their way through the crowd, trailed by a group of five guards.
As they approached, Leith leapt to his feet. Shad and Brandi stood and all three of them bowed. The guards took positions a few yards back while General Stewart remained beside the prince.
“Lord Shadrach, Lady Brandiline, I have received news about…” Prince Keevan trailed off and eyed Leith. “Lord Shadrach, I believe you said the Blade would be properly secured?”
Leith glanced at his hands. He’d forgotten to keep a grip on the rope. It lay at his feet, leaving his hands free.
Shad crossed his arms. “He’s as secured as he needs to be.”
Prince Keevan glared. “I believe I’ve made my policy on this Blade quite clear. He may stay because I wish for him to hear this, but he should be bound.”
“You’re about as stubborn as a thirsty mule refusing to drink.” Brandi heaved a massive sigh, marched between Shad and Prince Keevan, and planted her hands on her hips. “Leith obviously isn’t going to do anything. You really think a little rope and three guards were keeping him in that cave? He was the First Blade. He could leave anytime he wanted. So stop all your fuss and bother, and say whatever you came all the way over here to say.”
Shad rubbed the back of his hand across his face, attempting to hide his grin. Leith had enough trouble keeping his own grin under control. Good thing Brandi was Prince Keevan’s cousin. Not that she’d hold back either way, but the prince might take it better.
Prince Keevan’s jaw tightened, pulling his scar taut across his face. “General Stewart, please keep an eye on the Blade.”
General Stewart rested his hand on his sword’s hilt. His dark brown-gray eyes, framed by weathered lines, settled on Leith like shackles.
Prince Keevan turned to Shad. “On his way here, the rider swung past Walden. As of six days ago, it still stands.”
Shad’s breath whooshed from his chest. Leith clasped his hand over the empty space where his knife usually rested. Somehow, Lord Alistair had held off Respen’s army this long. But for how much longer?
Brandi tapped her foot. “What about Renna? You have news, right?”
Renna. Leith stepped closer to Brandi and gripped her shoulders. His heart pounded in his throat. Had Respen hurt her? What if he’d set the trap for Leith, and Leith hadn’t shown up? Would Respen have killed her?
Surely not. Respen wouldn’t kill her. He couldn’t kill her.
Prince Keevan’s gaze met Leith’s. A challenge hardened his blue eyes. “It appears you aren’t as important to Respen as you believe. He has other reasons for keeping her alive.”
What was Prince Keevan talking about? What did Respen plan to do to Renna? Leith tightened his grip on Brandi’s shoulders. His back muscles cramped with tension. If Prince Keevan didn’t stop dancing around the topic, Leith might risk General Stewart’s wrath and shake him.
Prince Keevan’s mouth twitched like he knew he’d prodded Leith. “She’s engaged to marry Respen Felix in two weeks.”
Leith stiffened. Renna was getting married? To Respen? The mountain tilted under his feet.
“What?” Brandi gaped at Prince Keevan. “Renna would never marry Respen.”
“He must be forcing her.” Leith drew in a deep breath, steadying the mountain and his shaking hands. That had to be it. Renna would never willingly marry Respen.
At least they knew Renna was still alive. That was something. He tried to focus on that rather than the thought of Respen touching her, kissing her. Leith’s stomach churned as a rush of heat flared along his back. He’d move all of Acktar to prevent that.
“Can he do that?” Brandi glanced over her shoulder at him.
“This is Respen we’re talking about. He can do what he wants.” Perhaps this was Respen’s trap. Not an execution as Leith had expected, but a wedding. Something Respen guessed would provoke Leith as much as an execution without killing Renna.
“We have to do something. We can’t let Renna marry Respen. I mean, ewww. Respen would be my brother-in-law.” Brandi shuddered and stuck out her tongue. “And what’s with the date? Why would Renna want to get married to Respen on her birthday?”
Leith clenched his teeth against the rush of bile on his tongue. He had to stop the wedding. Somehow. The consequences for failure were unimaginable.
Prince Keevan scrubbed at his scar. “My advisors and I will discuss it. Lord Shadrach, please return the Blade to his accomodations.” He spun on his heels and strode away. General Stewart marched after him, paused to give instructions to the five guards, and followed the prince.
Brandi crossed her arms and scowled. “Discuss it. That’s just another way of saying he has no idea what to do.”
“He has more than just Renna to think about.” Leith gritted his teeth. How was he going to rescue Renna from this? Especially if he didn’t have Prince Keevan’s help?
“Then I’ll have to make Renna his top priority.” That devious twinkle sparked in Brandi’s eyes.
She was plotting something, and Leith knew all too well how hard Brandi was to resist. He almost pitied Prince Keevan.
Almost.
26
Two weeks to her wedding. Renna stabbed the fish on her plate. Her dress was almost finished. Most of the details were planned. Many of Respen’s guests were arriving. Wasn’t a girl supposed to be excited at this point? All she felt was a growing dread. But she didn’t have a choice.
Respen’s eyes darted to the window. Renna leaned forward, catching sight of a black-clothed rider. Another Blade returning to Nalgar Castle.
Martyn met the rider in the courtyard. His curls bounced as he gripped the other Blade’s arm. The Blade handed Martyn something shiny before Martyn clapped him on the back and headed toward the passageway.
Respen turned to Renna. “Lady Rennelda, please return to your room.”
What did Martyn have to report to King Respen? Had one of the Blades found Leith’s body? She hesistated. Would Respen allow her to stay? She was going to be his queen. Shouldn’t she share his secrets?
He turned to her, dark eyes hardening. “I gave an order. Leave.”
Heart thumping, she scrambled to her feet and darted from the room, hop-skipping to avoid putting too much strain on her healing leg. Partway down the stairs, she nearly ran into Martyn on his way up. He carried two knives in his hands, but the staircase was too dark for her to make out the initials etched on the hilts. “Sorry, excuse me.”
Martyn opened his mouth, like he wanted to tell her something, but he snapped his jaw shut. With a nod, he shoved past her and continued up the stairs.
Renna froze, her foot hovering over the next step. She glanced over her shoulder as Martyn stepped into the king’s chambers, the door clicking shut behind him. Did she dare listen even after Respen ordered her to leave?
She needed to know what Martyn had to report. Holding her breath, she tiptoed back up the stairs and pressed her ear to the door. Respen’s voice shouted, but the door muffled the words too much for her to hear anything besides the thunder of h
is tone vibrating the walls.
She eased to the floor, careful of her weak leg, but the door shut too firmly against the carpet of the room above to provide an air gap. Standing once again, she pressed her ear to the door. A faint thwacking sound met her ear. Then silence.
Respen hadn’t liked Martyn’s report. What was going on? What had Martyn told him?
The door’s latch clicked. Renna shrank against the wall, her pulse throbbing in her throat. She couldn’t run down the stairs fast enough to avoid detection. What would Respen do to her for trying to eavesdrop on his First Blade’s report? He had hit her once. Would he do it again?
The door swung open. Martyn stepped from the room. His eyes swung to her and narrowed. He closed the door and steered her down the stairs with a firm grip on her elbow.
When they reached the bottom, he swung her against a wall, his grip painful on her arm. “How much did you hear?” His breath hissed across her cheek, his eyes burning.
“Nothing. The door was too thick. All I could tell was Respen got angry. He didn’t like whatever you reported to him.” She squeezed her hands together and forced her eyes to swing to his face. A red mark swelled one side of his jaw.
Martyn dragged a hand through his hair. “Get back to your room. You don’t want King Respen to catch you here.”
She nodded and dashed down the passageway. When she slammed the door to her room behind her, she panted for breath, and shafts of pain shot down her leg. Too much exertion too soon.
She collapsed into a chair by the fireplace, her hands shaking. She would be the one with a bruise on her face if Respen had spotted her.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to find the peace she’d felt when she’d fallen asleep on the fountain wall, but it ghosted away, replaced by the same dark dread she’d harbored for too long.
She’d fought this battle once. After the past four and a half years of living in fear, surely she’d grown past this. Wait on the Lord. Trust.
The door of her room slammed open. Respen charged into her room, his dark eyes raging.
Defy (The Blades of Acktar Book 3) Page 14
