“The ocean is too rough to try and swim from here to the city. We’d be smashed against the rocks.” Reaching down, his fingers came across another rope. Lying on his stomach, he studied it. The rope went straight down into the water. “It’s high tide.”
“What do you want to do?” Gytha started pacing.
“Owen said the only way in is through the water.”
“And?” She paused to look at him, her eyebrows raised in question.
“I’m going to follow the rope and see what happens.”
“Didn’t you just say it wasn’t safe to swim?”
“I’m not swimming,” he assured her. “I’m simply following the rope.”
“And if it doesn’t go anywhere?”
“I can hold my breath for a while. If I don’t find a way out, I’ll come back up.”
Gytha shook her head. “If you don’t return, do you want me to follow you?”
He shrugged. “Only if you want to. Otherwise, remain here. Once I find Owen’s cousin, I’ll return.”
She smiled. “And miss all the fun? I don’t think so.”
For the second time that day, Ackley found himself climbing over the side of a cliff, though this wasn’t nearly as high as the previous one. The sky continued to darken around him. The rough water below smashed against the rocky cliffside, spraying him. Wrapping his arm around the rope, he prayed his body didn’t get slammed into the rocks. He couldn’t afford to be knocked unconscious. Once the water reached his waist, he sucked in as much air as he could, then quickly descended under the water.
The swell pushed him forward. Instead of being tossed against something hard as he’d feared, his body was carried through the water, his hands sliding along the rope which was now above him. In the darkness, he couldn’t see where he was going, but it felt as if he’d entered an underwater tunnel. The rope suddenly ended. Feeling above him, his hands came across the end of a rocky passageway. Not having much air left, he let go of the rope, kicking until his head shot above the water. Ackley sucked in a welcome breath and looked around. He found himself in a small cave.
He swam to the edge, then climbed out, observing the sight before him. Through an opening in the cave, he saw a moon shaped cove. Buildings had been carved into the face of the cliff. Light shone from hundreds of open windows as candles burned inside, revealing people moving about. He blinked. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before.
Gytha joined him. “Now what?” she whispered, water dripping from her hair. She withdrew her cap from under her waistband, wrung it out, then put it on.
He’d lost his own hat in the water somewhere. “Once we’re not soaking wet, we’ll enter the city.” The wind blew, making him cold, but he welcomed the feeling. It would help keep him alert and awake. He observed the buildings, trying to get a feel for the people inside. Were they dressed differently? Did they speak another language? Owen had a thick accent, but Ackley understood him without much trouble.
“How are we going to find Owen’s cousin?” Gytha sat a few feet away, leaning against the wall of the cave.
Ackley had been contemplating the quickest way to locate her. It would be so much easier to slink around the city without having Gytha as his shadow. However, she’d proven to be capable and hadn’t slowed him down. Maybe he could use her. An idea formed.
“Every time you get that look on your face,” Gytha muttered, “I know I’m not going to like whatever it is you have to say.”
Tilting his head in her direction, his lips curved into a smile. She most definitely wouldn’t like what he was about to suggest.
Harley
“Harley,” Ledger called from the hallway. He knocked before opening the door a couple of inches.
“Go away,” Harley mumbled. “I just came off my shift and need to sleep.” What could he possibly have to say that couldn’t wait until after she got up? She groaned in frustration.
“Rayne spotted ships off the coast.”
That was about the only thing worthy of rousing her. She blinked and peered over at the doorway. Since her room didn’t have a window, she couldn’t see Ledger’s face. All she could make out was the silhouette of his body from the candles burning in the hallway at the inn. She sat up, waving him inside. “Do you think it could be my cousin?” For the first time in weeks, a glimmer of hope surfaced. She lit the candle next to her bed.
Ledger stepped into her room, closing the door behind him. “It’s either him or more Russek soldiers. In either case, we need to discover who it is.”
“Where were they spotted?”
“Heading slightly north of here. There’s an old military cove. If it’s your cousin, that’s probably where he went.” He folded his arms, leaning against the door.
“What’s the plan?” she rubbed her eyes. Exhaustion consumed her. She’d worked all day cleaning the rooms and serving in the tavern. In exchange for a room, she’d agreed to help around the inn. The arrangement had turned into her practically being the only servant in the place. But at least it provided her a roof over her head. Ledger, Rayne, and Milard were working in the barn in exchange for sleeping in it with the animals—which she refused to do.
“Rayne and Milard already left to investigate.”
“What about you?”
Ledger rubbed his forehead. “I’m going to meet with the commander of the soldiers here in Kreng. I’m still trying to convince them to support your cousin.”
For some reason, Ledger always referred to Owen as her cousin. She supposed calling him King Owen offered too much hope. And hope was in short supply these days.
“I’m surprised you stayed behind.” She knew Ledger had already spoken to the commander on multiple occasions. Every time he was told the same thing—Kreng wanted to remain sovereign. The commander claimed that if he supported Owen, then Kreng would be involved in Melenia’s politics. While Harley understood where he was coming from, she didn’t think he fully comprehended the ruthlessness of Russek. Kreng wasn’t safe while Russek occupied Melenia.
“We considered it. But we didn’t think it wise to leave you here alone.”
The simple statement warmed her. “Thank you for always watching out for me.” Especially since he didn’t have to.
“I’d want someone to do the same for my sister.”
Harley knew he was worried about his mother and sister. After safely delivering Harley to Kreng, he’d insisted on staying at her side instead of going to check on his family. While the people here had welcomed them in, she felt as if she were being watched with suspicion. Since Ledger had warned them of a possible invasion, they’d allowed him to assist the soldiers here. He’d sent out scouts to do reconnaissance and made sure no Russek soldiers came too close to the city. Ledger had learned that Kreng had two hundred active soldiers and about five hundred citizens who could be called on if needed. Numbers like that could help Owen retake the kingdom. The problem seemed to be that no one here was interested in helping Melenia.
Ledger reached for the door handle. “We should know something in a couple of days. Be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice.”
Harley nodded. The four of them had a boat stashed nearby in case Russek descended upon the city. “If it’s Owen?”
“We’ll leave immediately to join him.”
Anticipation filled her along with a mixture of unbearable sadness and hope. Harley longed to see her cousin. However, the grief they’d have to face at losing their loved ones would be difficult. But at the same time, Owen was Melenia’s only hope. He was the one person who could rid the kingdom of Russek and take up the crown as the rightful king of Melenia. Harley also had every intention of helping Owen seek retribution against Russek. Together they would destroy the brutal kingdom.
It had been four days and still no word came. Harley thought she would have heard from Rayne and Milard by now. She chewed on her lip, hoping the delay wasn’t because more Russek soldiers had arrived.
Harley entered the tavern, searchin
g for the innkeeper. As she suspected, he was sitting at the bar nursing a cup of ale. If he paid half as much attention to the inn as he did to his alcohol, the inn would be far more profitable.
“I finished cleaning the rooms,” she informed him. It was nearly time for supper, and she was famished. “Am I permitted to stay here another night?” She hated having to ask him every single evening if she’d worked enough to warrant a room.
The innkeeper turned his head toward her. “I need your help here at the tavern tonight.”
She’d worked at the tavern almost every night this week. “I’m tired from cleaning all day.”
“Laci just left,” he said, facing his drink again. “One of her kids is sick or something. Until she’s back, I need you here.”
Harley considered her options. If she left, the innkeeper couldn’t do anything to her. But then she’d have nowhere to sleep since she didn’t have any money. The innkeeper fed her three meals a day and gave her a room for the night in exchange for her help. Working a few more hours at the tavern would be worth it for a warm bed.
Without answering, she headed to the kitchen and snatched a slice of bread, shoving it in her mouth. The cook had also made stew for the patrons. After grabbing an apron, she went back out to the tavern. Most of the tables were already full with people eating and talking. She adjusted the apron around her brown wool dress. It wouldn’t be bad if the material wasn’t so rough and scratchy. But it was all she’d been given—a commoner’s dress. Until now, she’d never realized what not having money meant. All the times she’d seen people back home in Penlar begging for food, she’d never understood, never imagined what they were going through.
Shaking her head, she went over to a table where a young man had just sat down. “Can I get you a bowl of stew?” Harley pasted a smile on her face.
The man’s head tilted to the side and his eyes scanned her body, reminding her of Lyle’s assessing gaze. She shivered, immediately on edge.
“Yeah,” he answered. “And I also want a cup of ale.”
“Of course.” Harley waited until she was in the kitchen before rolling her eyes. Did a man ever come in to the tavern just to eat? Why did they all have to drink? Drinking impaired judgement. After grabbing a bowl of stew and a cup of ale, she went back out to the tavern. When she set the items on the table, the man’s hand shot out, latching onto her arm. She yelped in surprise, though no one noticed in the loud room.
He pulled her closer to him. “How much?” The man’s breath reeked of stale ale. How many drinks did he have before coming to the tavern?
She tried putting some distance between them, but he didn’t loosen his grip on her arm. “For the stew and ale that’ll be three quelps.”
“Not for the food. For you.”
Looking the man directly in the eyes, she said, “I’m not for sale.” She tried not to cower, but this man reminded her of Lyle.
A slow smile spread across his face. “Everyone has a price.”
Her body started shaking from both rage and fear. “Release me.”
“Aren’t you filling in for Laci?” he asked. “She charges ten riglars. I’ll pay you nine.” He yanked her closer to him, knocking her off balance. “You’re a bit too skinny for my taste.”
Panic filled her. She needed to get away from this man. If the innkeeper wasn’t so immersed in his drink, perhaps he’d see this customer being a bit too forceful with her. “Please,” she begged. “You’re hurting me.” Tears filled her eyes.
The man flew forward, his head landing in his bowl. Hot stew splattered over the front of Harley’s apron. He released her and she jumped back, shocked. Holding the man’s head down was a woman wearing pants with a cap covering most of her hair. Harley gawked.
“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” the woman said. She let up a bit so he could remove his face from the bowl.
He cursed, stew sliding down his forehead and cheeks.
The woman chuckled. “Not so bold now, are you?” She shoved his face against the table, pinning it there. The man reached back, grabbing onto the woman’s tunic. She elbowed him, and he released her. “You’re pathetic,” she spat. “That all you got?”
When she let go, he jumped to his feet, throwing a punch at her. She twisted, and his fist missed her face. He went for her again. She smiled and stepped to the side as his hand flew right by her. Rage twisted his features. He screamed and launched himself at her, knocking her to the floor.
Harley could have sworn she heard the woman laughing.
The innkeeper ran over, yanking them apart. “I’m tossing the two of you in the barn until someone can come sort this out. I won’t have any fighting at my establishment. This is a respectable place.” He dragged them from the tavern, not bothering to see if Harley was okay from the ordeal.
Harley removed her stew-splattered apron, about to head to the kitchen, when her skin prickled. Glancing behind her, she spotted a man sitting at a table in the corner of the room, his eyes trained on her. Two cups of ale were on his table, even though he was alone. The chair next to him was askew as if someone had been there only moments before. Had she just robbed this man of his companion?
Wanting to thank him for the woman’s help, Harley crossed the room, heading straight toward him. He tilted his head down, his face now cast in shadows. The innkeeper really needed to add a few more sconces to brighten up the place. She stopped a foot from the table. “Pardon me, but is the woman who assisted me your wife?”
“Wife?” he asked, a slight accent to the word.
She nodded, wishing he’d look up so she could see his face. “If so, please thank her for me. I’d also like to apologize for her predicament.”
The man’s pointer finger traced the rim of his cup. “If anything, you did us a favor. That was easier than I expected.” As he spoke, his accent faded away.
Harley still couldn’t believe the woman had been dressed in pants and that she’d antagonized a man. She’d never seen anything like it before.
“If you could point me in the direction of where my wife is being held, I’d appreciate it.” He stood, his face still tilted downward, hidden by the shadows of the room, as if he knew just the right angle to make sure she didn’t get a good look at him.
Both cups were filled to the brim, though Harley got the impression the man had been sitting there for some time since she hadn’t served him.
“Your wife was taken around back to the barn. She will be held there until the watchmen arrive to escort her to prison.” Clutching the apron, she felt awful the woman was going to be arrested for helping her. “If you like, I can speak on your wife’s behalf.”
The man was about to toss a coin on the table when he paused, considering her. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.” She set the apron on the table and gave the man her full attention.
He set the coin down with a soft clink. “Have you worked here long?”
“No. I’ve only been here a few weeks.” He must have been able to tell she was inexperienced. The other women who worked there wore scandalous dresses and flirted with the patrons. She never did so and couldn’t feel at ease in an establishment such as this. Someone of her social standing didn’t frequent taverns.
“I’ll take you up on your offer of speaking on my wife’s behalf. Can you escort me to the barn where she’s being held?”
“I would be happy to.” She led him out of the tavern and to the narrow street out back. The barn was up ahead on the left.
“Do you think it wise to bring me through a dark, deserted alleyway?” the man asked, his voice low, matching the night. “If I wished to hurt you, no one would be nearby to help.”
Now that he’d pointed it out, yes, it seemed ill-advised to do such a thing. Realizing her err in judgement, she stopped and confronted the man, wishing she could see his face. He remained in the shadows, as if he were one himself. Goosebumps covered her skin, and she shivered, though it wasn’t cold out. �
��Your wife came to my aid.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I doubt she would do such a thing if her husband were of questionable character.”
A low chuckle escaped his lips. “You’re not a tavern worker, that much is obvious from your speech. And the woman isn’t my wife, she’s just a friend.”
She blinked, unsure what he was implying.
He took a step closer to her. “I suspect your penmanship is impeccable, you normally wear fancy dresses, and you are usually the one being served.”
She swallowed, suddenly feeling like she was ensnared in a carefully set trap. “Who are you?”
He took another step closer, invading her personal space. “You’re not from around here, are you, Harley?”
Her eyes widened, and she stepped back, away from him. How could he possibly know her name?
He took another measured step closer to her. She sucked in a breath, about to scream for help, when she realized he’d moved into the light cast by a nearby window. Momentarily stunned, she stood there staring, unable to look away. The man’s face was more youthful than she’d expected. He had to be only a couple of years older than her. His dark hair hung loose around his angular face, framing his brown eyes. Standing a solid foot above her, he was taller than she’d first realized.
He raised a single eyebrow, awaiting her response.
Unable to utter a single word, she simply shook her head. She’d never been tongue-tied around a man before. What was wrong with her? Of course, she’d never met someone like him—equal parts alluring and dangerous.
“Your name is Harley, isn’t it?”
She nodded.
The man’s face instantaneously softened, and he smiled. “Your cousin, Owen, sent me. Now let’s go and get my friend before she’s hauled off to prison, though that’s why we came into the tavern in the first place. Seems you saved us quite a bit of time. I’m Ackley, by the way. And the woman—her name is Gytha.” Sliding his hands into his pockets, he sauntered toward the barn, not even bothering to see if she followed.
Sword of Rage: Reigning Kingdoms, Book 1 Page 7
