Sword of Rage: Reigning Kingdoms, Book 1

by Jennifer Anne Davis

  “I didn’t. I just guessed. That’s why I asked her a question—to distract her.” He led the way to a narrow staircase at the back of the tavern.

  Climbing the stairs, Harley winced. Her feet hurt even worse than before.

  On the second floor, they found the innkeeper sitting at a desk. Ackley paid him for one room. After obtaining the key, Ackley led Harley down the hallway to the last room. He pushed open the door, allowing her to enter first.

  The single bed took up most of the space. At this point, she didn’t care whether she slept on the bed or the floor—she was happy to have a roof over her head. Before she had a chance to ask Ackley if he wanted the bed, the vision of them sharing it shoved its way in. She imagined removing his tunic, tracing the lines of his stomach, then lying next to him, pressed together. She shook her head, unable to believe she’d stood there daydreaming for a minute. She must be delirious from lack of sleep.

  “Here.” Ackley helped her remove her bag. Then he placed both of their bags on the empty chair in the corner of the room. “Go to sleep,” he commanded, his deep voice husky in the dimly lit room. “I’m going to head out. Make sure to lock the door after I leave.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed, untying her boots. “Will you be gone most of the night?”

  “Probably.”

  “Please be careful.” She removed her right boot, wincing as she did so.

  “Your foot is bloody.”

  “It’s just a few blisters. I’m fine.” She removed her left boot, dropping it to the floor along with her other one. Both of her feet throbbed with stinging pain.

  Shaking his head, Ackley left the room.

  After locking the door, Harley stretched out on the bed, not even bothering to change into her nightdress or climb under the covers. The bed practically hugged her body. Since she didn’t want to get blood on the blankets, she kept her feet dangling over the end of it.

  The doorknob rattled, and her eyes flew open. Ackley opened the door, pocketing the key. He held a bucket in his other arm. “Sit up.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be out investigating?”

  After closing the door, he set the bucket on the floor. “I said sit up.”

  “I’m half asleep.” And she had no intention of sitting or doing anything else for that matter.

  “Fine.” Gingerly, he slid his hands around her waist, flipping her body over onto her back. Then he slid his hands down her legs to her knees. He gently pulled her toward the end of the bed until her calves hung over the edge.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, horrified. She hadn’t bathed in days, and she smelled.

  He lifted her right leg, shoving her pants up. Then he placed her foot in the bucket filled with blissfully warm water.

  A moan escaped her lips. “What’s in that?”

  “Healing oils,” he answered, his voice amused.

  Some part of her wanted to protest at him touching her so intimately, but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything. The warm water felt too luxurious to complain about his hand holding her calf.

  After a couple of minutes, he removed her right foot from the bucket, inserting her left foot into the water. While it soaked, he dried her right foot and applied something cold and gooey on it. Then he repeated the same ministrations to her left foot. She vaguely felt him lift her legs back onto the bed, tucking her under the blankets.

  Harley awoke. Blissful sunlight poured into the room, warming her. She sat up, stretching.

  “Are you finally awake?” Ackley asked from somewhere on the floor next to the bed.

  She peered over the side and found him lying on his back, crammed between the wall and the bed.

  “Please tell me you didn’t sleep on the hard floor.” Not that there was much room on the bed for him or that sharing would have been appropriate.

  “I spent most of the night going to different taverns and talking with the locals.”

  He had to be exhausted. “Would you like to sleep on the bed for a few hours?”

  “I’m good.” He yawned. “I was able to confirm most of what we already knew about Russek.” He went over to the window, glancing outside.

  “King Drenton is truly dead?” The man responsible for sending his troops into her kingdom was dead?

  “He is.”

  “Did you discover who killed him?”

  He shook his head. “Jana is sitting on the throne while Kerdan is in exile. The kingdom is torn on who to support.”

  “What do you think?”

  “That things are going to get even worse for Russek. I also confirmed Princess Allyssa of Emperion has been killed. Emperion has amassed their army along the Russek border. They intend to attack.” Leaning against the window sill, he folded his arms.

  “Any word about who’s sitting on Melenia’s throne?”

  “Everyone knows Melenia is ravaged, the royal family slaughtered, and a Melenia soldier has declared himself the new ruler, but no one knows his name. No one seems to care right now with a massive war brewing.”

  Harley twisted the blanket between her hands hoping her family would still get justice for their senseless murders. With Drenton dead and Russek about to be invaded, she feared retribution would not come. Maybe the destruction of Russek would be enough. She peered at Ackley, this assassin-prince who could deliver the revenge she wanted. He could make sure those responsible died—whether Owen gave the order or not. “So what’s our plan?”

  “We’re going to Russek, we’ll meet with Kerdan, and then return to Melenia.” He made it sound so simple.

  “How do you intend to meet with a man who is in exile?”

  Instead of answering, he pointed at her feet hidden beneath the blankets. “Are you going to be able to walk?”

  She pushed the blankets off. Her feet looked significantly better and felt wonderful. “Whatever you did to them worked.” Her eyes widened in horror as she recalled him tending to her last night. She’d been too tired and in too much pain to protest.

  “I bought you some socks and fur-lined boots for the journey.” He nodded at the end of the bed. “Put them on, and we’ll get going.” He pushed off the window ledge.

  Unable to move, she sat there staring at the boots and socks he’d bought for her.

  “Is something the matter?” he asked tentatively.

  She shook her head, horrified. Not even Lyle would have taken care of her like that. This man who was practically a stranger—and a prince no less—had cleaned and tended to her feet. Her face went flaming red with embarrassment.

  He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “What is it?”

  “I’m sorry you had to do that last night.” Her feet had been covered with blood, blistered, and they had to have smelled.

  He shrugged. “I’m sure you would have done the same for me. Let’s go.”

  While Ackley didn’t seem to consider it a big deal, Harley did. Only her mother had ever tended to her like that before.

  The thick socks were soft to the touch. She slid them on before putting on the fur-lined boots. When she stood, her feet felt as if they were wrapped in clouds. “Thank you.” She finally looked him in the eyes. “You didn’t have to get these for me. I appreciate it.” His eyes were two pools of warmth, making her want to step closer to him, even hug him. She imagined his hands taking hold of her face and kissing her. As desire built inside of her, she had to look away.

  “My pleasure.” Even his voice had a charming allure to it.

  They exited the room and headed down to the tavern where a handful of people were sitting at the tables having breakfast.

  “Let’s eat before we head out,” Ackley suggested.

  Harley thought that a wise idea. This time, Ackley chose a secluded table in the corner of the room. When the server approached, Harley ordered oatmeal for the both of them. While they waited for their food to be brought, Ackley pulled out a piece of paper, unfolding it. He flattened it on the table between them.

 
“You have a map,” she said, looking over the detailed rendering of the mainland. Villages, rivers, and borders were all marked. “Have you had this the entire time?” She’d assumed he had an uncanny sense of direction.

  His lips twitched. “I have.” He was on the verge of laughing at her.

  “Why are you choosing to share this with me now?” She should have known he had a map. There was no way he could have led the way out of Melenia to Landania, arriving at this town without some sort of guidance.

  “We’re going to head north to this village.” He pointed at the map. “There, I’m meeting with one of my men.”

  As in, this had already been arranged. How long had Ackley planned on going to Russek? “Does my cousin know we’re doing this?”

  “My man has already requested an official meeting between Prince Kerdan and myself. As a prince, I can do this on my own.”

  Without Owen being involved or knowing about it.

  He folded the map, tucking it away. “From here on out, we’re going to pretend to be a married couple.” His eyes shone with mischief, as if he knew playing such a part would make her uncomfortable. He raised his right eyebrow, waiting for her to protest.

  “Why not brother and sister?”

  He leaned in closer, taking a lock of her blonde hair between his fingers and twirling it. “Not as fun.”

  “But more appropriate.” She pulled her hair free even though she rather enjoyed the idea of a man flirting with her. Not to mention what that simple touch had done to her insides.

  “You of all people know how brutal Russek is. When we step foot in that kingdom, you are my wife. I can’t risk anyone trying to take you, hurt you, or use you. Having you be unmarried is too risky.”

  The server set two bowls of oatmeal on the table and left.

  Taking a bite, Harley almost believed that Ackley cared for her. However, she was certain Owen had made him promise to bring her back safely. Any commitment to protecting her stemmed from that promise and nothing more. When she swallowed her oatmeal, she had no idea why it felt like thick mud going down her throat, making her stomach sour.

  Ackley

  Ackley stood there, once again not quite believing what he saw ahead. Crossing from Landania to Russek should have been simple. Easy. He rubbed his face, then looked at Harley. “I’m sorry.”

  “Do you think those are more Melenia citizens? Or are they Russek?”

  He had no idea what kingdom the severed heads on spikes belonged to.

  “If they’re from Melenia, what are they doing all the way out here between Landania and Russek?” Harley asked. “And if they’re Russek, how could their own countrymen do this to them?”

  “Let’s not stand here out in the open,” he said. He began walking toward the line. The spikes were about ten feet apart. He aimed so he’d cross in the middle between two, trying to put as much distance as possible between them and death.

  Harley reached out, clutching onto his arm. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  Surprise washed through him at the fact that she was touching him. He didn’t think she’d voluntarily do so.

  She glanced at her hand on his arm and jerked, suddenly releasing him. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” He needed to get her focus off the severed heads and on him. If he did so, he could get her into Russek without her panicking about her fallen countrymen.

  “It was inappropriate for me to touch you so informally.” A slight blush graced her cheeks.

  He chuckled. “I washed your feet last night.” He leaned down closer to her ear. “I’ve touched far more intimate parts of your body than your arm.” He hoped his teasing distracted her. The blush on her cheeks deepened, indicating he’d done his job.

  She squared her shoulders, composing herself. “Regardless,” she said, her chin slightly raised. “You’re a prince. Someone of my standing should not touch you without invitation.”

  He almost burst out laughing. Lowering his voice, he murmured, “So if I asked you to touch me, you would?”

  Her eyes widened, and she leaned away from him. “I wasn’t saying that at all!” She quickened her pace so she was walking slightly in front of him. “I’m sorry for implying anything like that.”

  She marched straight past the spikes, her hands balled into fists.

  Once they’d passed the line, he could feel a change in the air. They were in Russek, land of savage men. Harley slowed, as if sensing the change as well. If Ackley had done his calculations correctly, they had about another mile to walk until they reached the small village where his man was waiting for him.

  “Stay beside me.” He didn’t want Harley walking behind him. Not only could he not see if she limped or started to fall behind, but he had this odd compulsion to talk to her. To get to know her better. Which was strange because he didn’t like talking all that much.

  “I’ve never done anything dangerous or risky like this before,” she said as she joined him, rubbing her hands together then blowing into them.

  The air seemed to turn colder with each step they took. Ackley would have to find them warm cloaks to wear so they wouldn’t freeze. “I think managing to sneak out of the great hall during the invasion constitutes risky behavior. Not to mention being brave enough to light the signal fire and speak to Kerdan.” He tilted his neck to the side, cracking it. While her being the only noble to get out of the castle alive did seem questionable—he didn’t think she had anything to do with, or had any knowledge of, the takeover. Unless she was fooling him.

  She laughed, staring up at the sky. “I hardly call that brave. It was simply survival. First, being driven by saving my brother, and then myself. Doing something like this,” she waved her hand between them, “would never have happened before.”

  “Before?”

  “With Lyle. He didn’t like me leaving the house. He thought my place was inside—cooking, cleaning, and tending to his needs.”

  Ackley had to force himself to remain calm so she’d continue to confide in him. “Even though you’re a lady, he had you doing the work of servants?” And he’d seen the closet. It had been cleared out, there was a chain around the door handle, and the inside had scuff marks from someone kicking and banging. He couldn’t figure out why Lyle would have locked Harley in there.

  “Lyle didn’t allow servants in the house. Someone had to do the work.”

  Lyle had married a person of wealth and social standing for a reason. He should have taken advantage of it. There was no reason to force Harley to do the work of servants and treat her so abominably. “I would have thought he’d want to show you off.” Usually when a man married a woman as beautiful as Harley, he enjoyed taking her to balls and gatherings. It seemed strange to want to hide her away. But then he thought about the woman his brother had wanted him to marry. She was a pretty little thing who he didn’t care for. If they’d married, he probably wouldn’t have wanted to take her anywhere and would have preferred ignoring her. Thankfully, that engagement had been severed. He shivered, grateful to have gotten out of that one.

  “Maybe he would have with time.” She folded her arms, gazing out at the scenery.

  A few wooden huts came into view, which meant the village had to be close by. Ackley glanced at Harley. Her beautiful, long blonde hair stood out like a beacon. “I think you should braid your hair. Try to look a little less conspicuous.”

  “Good idea.” She quickly braided her hair then slid it under her tunic.

  He tried not to think about what it would feel like to run his hands down her bare back. Such thoughts would do him no good. She was not his type.

  “When we reach the village, what are we going to do?”

  “Find the tavern.”

  “Of course. It seems all business dealings are conducted at such establishments.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

  “Maybe try not to speak so refined when we’re near other people. Try and mimic those around you.” More buildings came into view. “Use som
e slang. Curse.”

  “I most certainly will not curse. I can, however, use some slang as you call it.”

  He chuckled. “This should be good fun.”

  A cart neared. The driver didn’t even bother to glance their way as he steered the horses past them.

  “No wonder Russeks wear those fur things.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s so cold here. I’m sure the fur wraps keep them warm. At first I thought it was to intimidate others, but now I see it’s for survival.”

  They would stand out even more without cloaks of some sort. Especially if Harley kept shaking like that.

  The cart stopped in the middle of the road ahead of them. Ackley stepped in front of Harley, a dagger already in his right hand.

  The man driving the cart chuckled, then climbed down. “You from Melenia?” he asked in a thick accent. He was six feet four inches tall and about two hundred fifty pounds. His long dark hair was pulled back at the base of his neck.

  While Ackley didn’t visibly see any weapons, the man probably had one in his boot and maybe one hidden on his back. The way the man held his body, along with his muscled arms, indicated he was well versed in the art of fighting. He probably didn’t need a weapon—his hands were deadly enough.

  Yet, he hadn’t made any move against Ackley or Harley. Weighing his options, Ackley decided to shrug.

  “I’ve been waiting with your friend. When he saw you pass by, he sent me after you.” He folded his arms, tilting his head to the side, studying Ackley. “He didn’t expect you to bring a woman along.”

  Ackley shrugged again. “What difference does it make?” He hoped having Harley there didn’t prevent him from meeting with Kerdan.

  “Just wasn’t part of the plan,” he replied. “Your friend who arranged everything never did tell me your name.”

  “I’m Prince Ackley of Marsden.”

  The man threw his head back, laughing. “You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that.”

  Harley moved closer to Ackley. He wished she hadn’t moved because by doing so, she drew attention to herself.