Defy (The Blades of Acktar Book 3)

by Tricia Mingerink

  Leith squeezed his eyes shut tighter. The looks on their faces after they’d done it. He should’ve stepped in. He should’ve done something. Instead, he stood by and let them become Blades.

  “They killed at the same time. Ranson is two months older, so he became the higher Blade.” Leith laid his free hand against one of the bandages on his chest as if that action could stop the pain from grinding deeper.

  Once, he’d feared death. He’d feared it enough to kill over and over again to avoid Respen’s knife. But now, he felt almost ready. Did that mean this was God’s time for his death?

  He’d never had a chance to read the whole Bible. He could count the number of sermons he’d heard on his hands. He trusted God, but the gaps in his knowledge still gnawed at him.

  He gathered enough breath to speak. “What is Heaven like?”

  The silence stretched. Had she heard him? He drew in another painful breath when her voice drifted through the shadows. “The Bible says it’s a place of light. No darkness there. No suffering. No tears. The souls of God’s people are there, already rejoicing in the presence of Jesus and waiting for their bodies to be raised from the dead at the end of time.”

  No darkness. He savored that thought. No suffering. He couldn’t imagine a place without blood and pain.

  “I’ve heard some people say that we won’t remember our past, but I’m not sure.”

  “I hope I remember everything.” Leith pressed a hand against one of his cracked ribs. If only he could hold the pain back, push it into a corner, so he could force the words out. “When I get to Heaven, I want to remember every sin so I can thank Christ for saving me from each one of them.”

  “I never thought of it that way.” She shifted, jostling his head. “We can’t truly be thankful if we don’t have something to be thankful for.”

  A thought struck him, painful and sharp as his cracked ribs. “Will your parents have forgiven me? And the others I killed?”

  What would it be like, meeting his victims in Heaven? If hatred no longer existed, what would they feel spending eternity with their killer?

  Her sigh was a whisper in the darkness. “I suspect that in Heaven, they’ll have the perspective to be able to rejoice in your salvation.” She paused for a moment, her voice lowering until he could barely hear her. “Uncle Abel once said that in Heaven, we’ll all be part of the family of Christ. We’ll be brothers and sisters, but we’ll know each other better than we knew even our closest brother or sister or friend on this earth. I could never imagine it.”

  Leith couldn’t imagine it either. The thought of meeting Renna’s parents and have them welcome him or greeting Daniel from the Bible as a long lost friend. Perhaps there was a reason the Bible didn’t speak about Heaven too much. He couldn’t fathom the little Renna had told him.

  Without being asked, she began singing. He didn’t recognize the words or the tune, but it was soft and slow. He closed his eyes, letting the light of the words shiver into his skin and dull the pain for a few moments.

  44

  Brandi could’ve cried in relief when the town of Dently poked above the horizon. Her legs, back, shoulders, and pretty much her entire body ached. She and Jamie had ridden almost nonstop for two days after leaving the Resistance army, only pausing for a few hours of sleep each night. Would she even be able to walk when she dismounted?

  As they rode into town, the townsfolk peeked out of doors and shuttered windows at them. Fear strolled through the town, stalking around the buildings with gusty footsteps. A squad of armed men casually surrounded Brandi and Jamie, drawing the circle tight before they reached the manor house.

  Lady Emilin might claim to be sitting out of the fight, but she wasn’t exactly standing down.

  Jamie held up the sealed letter. “I have a message for Lady Emilin.”

  “Dismount. Leave your weapons here.” One of the soldiers commanded them, his hand clasped around the hilt of his sheathed sword.

  Brandi slid from the horse’s back and removed her daggers and short sword. She placed them in a pile on the ground and stepped away from them. She held her breath. Hopefully the guards wouldn’t feel the need to frisk her for additional weapons. Her baggy shirt and leather vest disguised her figure, but it wouldn’t do anything if someone searched her.

  Jamie eyed her as he placed his weapons on the pile, as if he were wondering the same thing. She gave a small shrug. If it came down to it, she’d just have to confess who she was. What would they do? Maybe they’d think Keevan had allowed girls in his army.

  “Come with me.” The spokesman waved them forward. Brandi huffed. Apparently they looked innocent enough.

  The guard led them into the manor house, four of the other guards trailing behind them. Inside, the spokesman ordered them to wait in what looked like the study while he fetched Lady Emilin.

  Brandi rocked back and forth on her feet, studying the small bookcase and the honeyed pine paneling. Lord Alistair’s study in Walden had been lavish, all dark paneling and so many books no one person could ever read them all. This study was understated. Functional. She rather liked the look of it.

  Lady Emilin swept into the room. Her brown hair curled in a loose bun at the back of her head, accentuating her pale face. Shadows ringed her eyes and tightened her mouth.

  Jamie gave a half bow, and Brandi hurried to do the same. As Brandi straightened, Jamie held out the letter. “I have a message from the Leader of the Resistance.”

  Lady Emilin stiffened. “I won’t entertain communications with the leader of that rebellion. My husband died for his refusal to aid the rebellion. I will do no less.”

  “I understand, my lady.” Jamie extended the letter again. “But you’ll want to read this one.” He turned the letter so the seal caught the afternoon sunlight dazzling through the windows.

  Lady Emilin blinked and paled to the same color as the letter. With trembling fingers, she took the letter and broke the seal. Her brown eyes flicked back and forth as she read it quickly.

  If she wasn’t pretending to be a boy, Brandi would’ve given the lady a hug. Lord Emilin had died because he’d refused to fight against King Respen. He’d seen the Resistance as a rebellion against the king God had placed over them. He’d had no way of knowing that the Resistance was trying to restore the true king to the throne. As Lord Alistair had maintained all along, Respen was the one rebelling. It’d be hard for a widow to come to terms with that.

  Lady Emilin swallowed. When she raised her head from the letter, her face had smoothed into a calm mask, her eyes flinty. “Captain, assemble our men. We’ll be joining the Resistance. We move out as soon as possible.”

  Her captain nodded, his eyes full of questions that Brandi could tell he was too disciplined to ask in front of his men. “Shall I arrange for quarters for these messengers?”

  Jamie shook his head. “We need to return to the Leader to report, my lady. A pair of fresh horses and provisions is all we ask.”

  As Lady Emilin nodded her assent and commanded her captain to see to it, Brandi bit back her groan. So much for a good night’s sleep in a soft bed.

  As the evening shadows lengthened, Jamie wheeled his horse. “Let’s swing by Nalgar Castle.”

  Brandi nodded. They’d have to circle around it to reach her cousin’s army anyway. They might as well stop and scout the area. It might come in handy when Keevan’s army attacked in the morning.

  Brandi and Jamie left their horses in a stand of trees and stalked through the prairie grass to a hill overlooking Nalgar Castle. At the top, they crawled on their stomachs and parted the strands of grass. To their left, the sun hung low, a ball of gold in hills of orange fire. Nalgar’s towers stood dark against the blazing sky.

  Men streamed over the hill from the north and darted through the open gate. Jamie gave a small nod of his head in their direction. “Our army must have them on the run.”

  “Good. To rescue Leith and Renna, Keevan has to attack tomorrow morning.” Brandi peered nor
th as if she could spot the advancing army. “They can’t be that far away.”

  “It looks like these men ran for several miles to get here. Look at how they’re staggering. At this time of night, Prince Keevan will probably give the order to halt and camp several miles away from the castle.” Jamie scowled and tipped his head again. “One of the Blades.”

  A figure dressed in black galloped his horse past the tottering soldiers, shoved a few aside, and cantered through the gate. A moment later, Brandi spotted the Blade exiting the wall of the castle and crossing the wooden bridge across the moat to enter the Blades’ Tower.

  For an hour, they watched Respen’s army retreat into the castle walls. More Blades galloped into the castle and entered the Tower. Brandi leaned over and whispered to Jamie. “How many is that? Are all the Blades there?”

  Jamie bobbed his head. “I think so.” He wiggled backwards. “We’d better report to Captain Alistair.”

  Brandi began to crawl backwards, but movement in the castle halted her. She peered through the descending darkness at the bridge to the Blades’ Tower. A tall, dark-haired figure strode across the bridge dressed in what looked like dark blue clothing. She swallowed. Even at this distance, she could recognize King Respen. “Jamie, look.”

  Jamie’s jaw tightened. “Something’s gone wrong. I think Respen called a Meeting of the Blades.”

  “Tonight? But he isn’t supposed to have one until tomorrow morning.” Her heart twisted and tumbled into her stomach. “He isn’t just going in there to…” She didn’t want to say torture Leith, but torture was better than death.

  Jamie shook his head. “Respen likes to do that kind of stuff in the morning. That’s why he always calls a Meeting of the Blades in the morning. Always. I’ve never known him to enter the Blades’ Tower after dark. Ever.”

  The evidence clanged like a blacksmith’s hammer hitting the anvil, shaping her thoughts. “Respen knows our army’s attacking in the morning. He’s going to kill Leith before they arrive.” They would be too late. “We have to do something. We can’t just let him kill Leith and Renna.”

  Jamie tugged her below the crest of the hill. “Listen. I’ll sneak into the castle and try to delay them. Ride to Prince Keevan as fast as you can. Tell him what’s happening. You have to convince him to attack tonight. Got that?”

  She nodded as a weight fell onto her shoulders. “I’ll be back with the army before you know it.”

  Without a glance backwards, she slid down the hill and raced for the horses. Divesting the small, brown mare of everything except for the saddle and reins, she swung onto the horse and kicked it into a gallop.

  The mare flared her nostrils and ran. If the mission hadn’t been so urgent, Brandi would’ve enjoyed the thrill. She’d sensed the mare longed to be given her head and run.

  She was running now. Floating, almost flying over the prairie. Brandi crouched low, the ends of the horse’s mane lashing her face with sharp strands. She didn’t care. All that mattered was speed.

  45

  Leith woke from a fitful sleep to the sound of voices. He blinked at the ceiling. Why were so many Blades tromping up the stairs at this time of night? And why the talking? Blades didn’t usually talk to each other on the way to the meeting room.

  The meeting room. With a deep breath, Leith pushed himself onto his elbows. Respen had called a Meeting of the Blades. Tonight. He planned to kill Leith tonight, well before Prince Keevan’s army ever spotted the castle walls on the horizon.

  Not too unexpected, but Leith had hoped Respen would wait until early the next morning.

  Groaning, he swung his legs over the side of his cot and forced himself to sit upright. The room tilted, but he didn’t have time to wait for it to stop spinning. Thankfully, his blurry vision and headache had faded yesterday.

  He tore at the bandages covering his torso. Tears pricked his eyes as cool air brushed the open burns. “Renna.”

  “I know.” Her voice broke.

  If only he could say something, anything, to take away the starkness of this moment. He dropped the last of the bandages on the floor and kicked them under the cot. Each painful breath felt special with the knowledge that he had so few left. “Our lives are in God’s hands.”

  Her sigh whispered through the gap in the wall. “I know. But I’m still scared.”

  He’d leaned on her too often in the last couple days. Now, Leith had to be strong for her. One last time.

  He slid onto his knees by the hole in the wall and reached his hand into the space. Her hand fumbled for a second until their fingers linked.

  Leaning his head against the stones, Leith tried to breathe past the pain of his broken ribs and breaking heart. “No matter what happens, we’ll be all right.”

  If he survived or if he arrived in Heaven, he’d be all right. Respen could do nothing to his soul, no matter how hard he tried.

  “Leith.” Her sobs echoed through the wall. “When I met you, I would’ve been happy to watch you die. But now…I can’t do it, Leith. I can’t.”

  He squeezed her hand. If only he could wrap his arms around her and let her sob onto his shoulder one last time. Their linked fingers would have to be enough. “Then don’t. You have my knife. I’ll make sure the door isn’t locked. They’ll be distracted watching me die. When you get the chance, you run.”

  “And leave you to die alone? I couldn’t.”

  “I didn’t have the courage to die for you back then. I do now. So please let me. I’ll die easier knowing I’m buying you time to escape.” Leith wrapped his free arm around his waist. Several of his burns seeped a clear liquid.

  Steeling his mind, he forced himself to go through his death step by step. He’d seen this death—he’d caused this death—too many times. He could count the seconds it’d take to die, either by suffocating or bleeding out, depending on how his throat was slit.

  “No matter what happens, no matter what you hear, you run. Promise me you’ll run.”

  “I…I promise.” She was crying so hard her words wobbled.

  “Find a place to hide until morning. Prince Keevan will attack Nalgar Castle then. You should be able to find an opportunity to escape.”

  “I will.”

  He sagged against the wall. As long as Renna escaped, he could die content.

  “I want to tell you…before…” Renna’s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “I love you.”

  Her words punched his stomach. What was he supposed to say to that? Words piled in his throat, but nothing squeaked from his mouth. Somehow, saying it was a promise he couldn’t keep. He cleared his throat. “Me too.”

  He heard footsteps pause outside his door. Footsteps must’ve halted outside Renna’s door because she sobbed harder.

  Leith rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “I need you to put the stone back in place.”

  With one last squeeze, he pulled his hand free of hers. The loss tugged all the way to his bones. The stone grated into the hole, separating them permanently.

  As his door lock rattled, Leith dug into the straw tick and pulled out the chip of stone he’d hidden there. He gripped it in his fist.

  The door creaked open, and Second Blade Offen and Third Blade Crossley strode in, hands on the hilts of their knives. Renna’s door also groaned open.

  Leith held out his wrists. Even if he wanted to, he didn’t have the strength to fight them. Nor could he risk dropping the stone.

  After tying his wrists, the Blades yanked him to his feet. Leith moaned as his cracked ribs shifted and the motion tore at his burns. They hauled him out his door and past the open door to Renna’s empty room.

  At the stop of the stairs, Leith faked a stumble and fell against the door jamb to the meeting room. He pushed the stone into the opening where the bolt would slide when locked.

  The Blades jerked him upright and dragged him forward. Crossley turned and slid the bolt to lock the door. It clicked as if locked, but it didn’t slide all the way.

  In
the meeting room, Martyn huddled in his seat to the king’s right. Renna fidgeted in a chair near the end of the table, a rope around her waist tying her to the chair and her hands hidden under the table. Their eyes met, and she tipped her chin. Her tears were gone, except for the faint sheen on her face. She was ready.

  Respen lounged in his throne at the head of the table. “Chain him.”

  The Blades lugged him to the end of the room where they chained his hands above his head.

  Leith leaned against the wall and gasped a few breaths. This was it. This was how he’d die.

  “The Blades have been dishonored and betrayed. When the rebels arrive in the morning, I want them to see their spy’s body hanging from the battlements.” Respen held his knife out to Martyn. “My loyal First Blade, kill the traitor.”

  Martyn’s hand only bobbled a fraction as he took the knife and slid to his feet. Leith watched his friend approach. He didn’t feel fear. Only a resigned sadness.

  Martyn halted in front of him, his brown eyes a swirl of pain, the knife clutched in a white-knuckle grip. “Back when we were trainees, I always thought you’d be the one ordered to kill me.”

  “Back then, I feared the same thing.” Leith closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall, exposing his neck to the blade. He’d gambled to save both Renna and Martyn, but he’d failed. Martyn couldn’t be swayed. “It’s all right, Martyn. I don’t blame you.”

  Cold steel shivered against his neck. The edge grazed the ridge of his throat, nipping at his skin.

  Martyn heaved in a deep breath. The knife pressed harder against Leith’s neck in preparation to slice his throat.

  46

  Brandi spotted the pinprick glows of the Resistance army’s camp. She urged the mare faster. The mare stretched her neck, ears pressed flat against her skull. Her nostrils flared wide, the insides pink. Sweat splattered into the air and onto Brandi’s face.