Deliver (The Blades of Acktar Book 4) Read online

  Renna smiled and hugged Addie, a difficult hug with Addie’s giant belly. “I wish we could stay longer. But we’ve been gone from Stetterly long enough.”

  “You’re welcome to visit any time.” Addie straightened as much as she could. “I know Keevan would enjoy having some of his family around instead of being stuck with only mine.”

  “You know I love your family.” Despite his rasp grating through the words, Keevan smiled and wrapped his arm around Addie’s waist as far as he could. The morning sunlight shone on the scar marring his cheek and neck. He stared past Renna, and his smile faded. He tightened his grip on Addie. “I suppose he will have to come with you.”

  Renna glanced over her shoulder. Leith limped toward them at an achingly slow pace, a cane in one hand for support. Ranson walked beside him, carrying both of their saddlebags. Leith’s face tightened with the hint of a grimace at each step. Three weeks after the battle, the knife wound in his thigh and his broken ribs still pained him while the deep burns across his chest and the healing whiplashes across his back drained his strength. Not that Leith would admit any of that to her. He didn’t have to. She was a healer, after all.

  “Yes, he’s sticking around.” Renna raised her eyebrows. “Think of him like that one family member you love just because they’re family, even if they’re a pain. Every family has one.”

  Keevan had the decency to look away. Growing up, he’d been that family member. He’d pulled Renna’s hair, stuffed snow down the back of her cloak, whacked her snowman to bits. Childish pranks, perhaps. But she didn’t have any good memories of him from back then.

  Addie covered her mouth, but a snort still escaped. “Some families have more than one.” She glanced over her shoulder, and the shorter of the two bodyguards behind her and Keevan swiveled his gaze to the sky.

  The muscle at the corner of Keevan’s jaw knotted. “Torren isn’t family.”

  “Yet. But he will be. Eventually.” Once Leith got around to asking.

  Keevan scowled.

  Hooves rattled against the cobblestones as Shadrach stepped from the stable with two saddled horses. He bowed to Keevan, nodded at Renna, and turned to Ranson and Leith, who had finally hobbled into hearing range. Shadrach looped the horses’ reins over rings in the stable wall and waved toward the stable. “Ranson, you’ll have to saddle your own horse. The stablehands refuse to go near it.”

  Ranson glanced at Leith, as if making sure Leith wasn’t going to fall over the moment Ranson left his side. Leith waved a hand and said something in a voice too low for Renna to hear.

  Nodding, Ranson hurried into the stable, nearly running into Jamie and the two horses he was leading. Behind Jamie, Brandi tugged a limping Blizzard from the stable. Brandi’s head remained wrapped in a bandage, and her short hair spiked in odd directions.

  Renna walked over to Blizzard and ran her hand along the healing gash that marred his shoulder and chest. When she looked up, Brandi’s eyes were wide, her mouth squinched as she waited for Renna’s verdict.

  “I’m not an expert on horse wounds, but Blizzard seems to be healing all right. No infection, at least, and the wound closed well.” Renna patted Blizzard’s neck.

  Brandi’s shoulders straightened, and a grin spread across her face. “That’s good. Because I’m not leaving him behind again.”

  “Me either.” The tapping of Leith’s cane sounded behind Renna a moment before his hand joined hers stroking Blizzard’s neck.

  Renna glanced over her shoulder. Leith’s face was inches from hers, and she was tempted to lean back and kiss him. But with the equivalent of an army gathered in the courtyard, this probably wasn’t the time.

  The corner of his mouth tipped up, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  Then he reached up and touched the side of his nose. “You got a smear of dirt. Right here.”

  Renna ducked her head and scrubbed at her nose. No, he hadn’t known what she was thinking. He was just laughing at the dirt on her face. Probably just as well.

  Keevan cleared his throat behind them. “Now that you’re all here, there are a few things I need to do before you leave.”

  Renna turned back to Keevan. Shadrach stepped up behind him, gripping something in his hand.

  Keevan straightened his shoulders and his face relaxed into a bland, impassive expression. “Lady Brandiline Faythe, please step forward.”

  Arms stiff at her sides, Brandi marched forward. Her short sword swung against her hip. She saluted Keevan, her mouth tipped upward. “Yes, sir?”

  “For your bravery in the Alistair Riders and for nearly sacrificing your life to hold Nalgar’s gates, I award you the King’s Medal of Valor.” Keevan waved to Shadrach.

  Shadrach stepped forward. A silver medal unfurled at the end of a light green, silk ribbon. Brandi bowed, and Shadrach looped the ribbon over her head.

  Renna drew in a deep breath. Brandi had been foolish. Reckless. But she’d also been beyond brave. She deserved the recognition.

  A tapping sound came from Renna’s side. Leith’s fingers slipped into hers.

  “James Cavendish.”

  Jamie strode forward and bowed to Keevan.

  “For your bravery in the Alistair Riders and for single-handedly clearing the way into the Tower for me and my men, I award you the King’s Medal of Valor.”

  Shadrach looped a second medal and ribbon over Jamie’s head.

  Keevan shifted his stance. “I’m sorry I couldn’t award you publicly after the coronation, Brandi. But to protect your reputation as a lady, it was decided it’d be better to have a private ceremony. Jamie requested to have his award presented at the same time as yours.”

  Brandi shot a grin at Jamie. Jamie grinned back.

  Renna squeezed Leith’s hand and leaned against his shoulder. Jamie had come a long way since Leith dragged him to Walden and introduced him to everyone at Brandi’s birthday party.

  The clatter of hooves behind them broke the moment. Ranson led a black horse from the stable and dodged a nip aimed at his shoulder.

  Shadrach straightened. “We’d better head out if we’re to reach Sierra by nightfall.”

  Leith limped over to one of the horses Jamie had led out of the stables. “Renna, you’ll be riding Big Brown, and he’s as docile and boring as his name suggests.”

  Renna walked to the horse’s side. Its back stood taller than Blizzard’s. Could Renna even get her foot high enough to pull herself into the saddle? After throwing her saddlebags over the horse’s back and strapping them on, she eyed Leith. “Don’t you dare try to boost me up.”

  His mouth quirked. “I thought about it.”

  While she’d appreciate a romantic gesture like that in a few months once Leith was fully healed, now wasn’t the time. Leith needed to conserve his strength to make it through the ride ahead.

  Ranson hurried to Renna’s side, knelt, and cupped his hands. His light brown eyes peered up at her. “I’ll do it, Lady Faythe.”

  “Thanks.” She patted his shoulder, placed her foot in his hands, and grasped the saddle.

  Ranson boosted her up high enough for her to swing her right leg over the horse. She settled into the saddle and gripped the reins when Ranson handed them to her. As Ranson strode toward another horse, Big Brown shifted beneath her, and Renna clung to the saddlehorn. Was the horse about to run off with her on its back?

  Leith ran his hand down Big Brown’s neck. “He isn’t going to do anything unexpected.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.” She winced as the horse swished its tail. If only she was as comfortable on a horse as Brandi. Brandi already perched on the back of a small, light brown mare, her body swaying with the horse’s movements. Beside her, Jamie sat on his buckskin, the horse pawing at the cobblestones.

  Ranson returned, leading a mouse-brown horse. Black markings covered its nose and legs. “First…uh, Daniel, you can ride this horse. It was…Blane’s horse.”

  Blane Altin. Renna swallowed. Blane died f
ighting to protect Ranson from the other Blades in the Battle of Nalgar Castle. He’d been so young. Too young to be killed before ever knowing freedom outside the Blades.

  “Are you sure?” Leith ran his fingers along the horse’s nose.

  Ranson nodded. “Blane would like you to have him, I think.”

  “I’ll borrow him for a while. When I get a new horse, you can have him back.” Leith rested a hand on Ranson’s shoulder. “Blane would want that.”

  While Ranson held the horse’s head, Leith limped to the right side of the horse and grasped the saddle. Renna tensed. Leith should be the one getting helped into the saddle. Instead, he had that set to his jaw and glint in his green eyes she’d seen all too often over the past month, especially while in the Tower. He was either going to get into that saddle by himself or pass out trying. Nothing she said or did would make a difference.

  Shadrach sidled closer to Leith, his arms loose at his sides as if he wasn’t positioning himself to catch Leith if he passed out. Renna caught his gaze and mouthed thank you. Shadrach nodded.

  Leith bounced on his good leg and heaved himself into the saddle. He hunched over the horse’s neck, pressed an arm against his chest, and gasped for breath.

  Renna clenched a fist in Big Brown’s mane. Leith wasn’t ready for this ride. All of them could see it. But Leith wouldn’t admit it.

  As if sensing her scrutiny, Leith straightened and steadied his breathing. Although his face remained pale, he managed a grin. “Did Blane ever name his horse?”

  “No.” Ranson handed the reins to Leith.

  Leith raised an eyebrow. “Brandi?”

  Brandi’s face scrunched. “How about Valor?”

  Renna caught a glimpse of Ranson’s smile before he ducked his head. Leith gave one sharp nod. “Valor it is.”

  The rest of them swung onto their horses, and Renna waved to Keevan and Addie one last time. Leith turned Valor’s head, and he and Shadrach led the way toward the gate. In the center of the cobblestone courtyard, Lady Lorraine, Jolene, and Lord Alistair joined them. The guards from both Sierra and Walden closed around them.

  Renna held her breath as she rode through the dark tunnel of the main gates. She’d kept her promise to Respen. She hadn’t escaped. Instead, she was riding out of Nalgar Castle in full daylight with an entire entourage to see her most of the way home.

  Sunlight washed over her as she exited the castle’s shadow. Before her, the prairie hills rolled into the distance, a smudge to the north marking the beginning of the Sheered Rock Hills. Nothing but sky and grass lay before her. No walls. No iron bars. No darkness.

  She was free.

  A week ago, she, Brandi, Jamie, and Keevan had left the castle for a short walk, so this wasn’t the first time she’d left Nalgar since her capture. But this time, she was truly leaving. By the time she had to return for a visit, Keevan and Addie would’ve purged the castle of Respen’s presence.

  No matter what they did, the graves on the hill to the northwest of Nalgar Castle would remain. If she turned in the saddle, she could make out the rows of markers among the prairie grass. Somewhere in there stood the markers for Blane Altin and Brandi’s friend Ian McCrae. At the crest of the hill, the line of stones she and Brandi had hauled to mark the mass grave where Uncle Abel and Aunt Mara were buried blurred white and gray against the dust.

  Memories flared. The flash of the ax. The blood flowing across the cobblestones. And the singing. That moment her aunt and uncle sang their way to death.

  She drew in a deep breath and turned away, only to spot a horse, its saddle empty, trotting on a leadrope behind one of Walden’s soldiers. An empty saddle. A life lost.

  So many families broken and hurting. How would Acktar recover? This war was town fighting town, neighbor against neighbor.

  How did a country move on from such betrayal within?

  I predict Acktar will tear itself apart within a year. That’s what Respen had told her. Was he right? Would this victory and peace last or was another battle, another war, burning beyond the horizon even now?

  She shivered, and Big Brown gave some sort of hop-trot beneath her. Gasping, she gripped the saddlehorn and held her breath until the horse settled back into a walk.

  Leith nudged Valor closer. “Are you all right?”

  What would she have done without Leith? He was something solid for both her and Brandi to cling to. His faith strengthened hers.

  Could she ever tell him how damaged she was? Her chest ached with the scars she’d gained in the last few months. Seeing Uncle Abel and Aunt Mara die. Hearing Leith’s tortured screams. That broken, raw part of her that had almost cared for King Respen.

  Would she ever be able to admit that secret to Leith? He’d turned himself in to Respen and faced torture to save her. How could she admit even a momentary disloyalty? Even when she’d thought him dead? What was wrong with her that she considered choosing Respen even for a moment?

  He was still waiting for her answer. She forced herself to smile. “Yes. I was just thinking about home.”

  Stetterly. Her town. It had a lot of rebuilding to do, and it would be different without Uncle Abel and Aunt Mara.

  But it would be home.

  4

  Leith clung to the saddlehorn and gritted his teeth. Valor’s strides jolted his cracked ribs and burned in the muscles of his wounded thigh. But he wasn’t going to complain. Not when their pace already crawled to accommodate his wounds and Blizzard’s limp.

  The late summer sun warmed his face as it rose higher in the sky, filling the grass with a dry rustle and the air with the scent of baking earth. Sierra lay somewhere miles ahead, but for right now, only prairie met the far horizon.

  He craned his neck as far as he could without twisting his ribs to glance at Blizzard. Blizzard’s ears remained pricked, his head up, so the horse couldn’t be in too much pain.

  Blizzard’s wound would probably fade until it was barely noticeable. While the muscle would never be strong enough to withstand the kind of arduous journeys Leith had put him through before, he might be able to be ridden again by a small rider.

  But that was all right. Blizzard probably wouldn’t mind being put out to pasture to grow fat and happy with all the attention Brandi would lavish on him.

  Where did Leith fit into this peaceful future? What was God calling him to do now? In all his time wanting to leave the Blades, he’d barely considered…after. He’d been so focused on his goal to save Renna and help the Resistance, he’d never considered what would happen to him when the only skills he had were no longer needed.

  Probably because he’d never expected to survive the final battle with Respen.

  He let out a slow breath. He had to place the future in God’s hands. He’d been able to do that when locked in the Tower facing Respen’s torture. Why couldn’t he do it now?

  The torture he’d faced in the Tower had been predictable. He’d known he’d face it and exactly how long it would last.

  But now? He wasn’t a Blade. He hadn’t been a Blade for months. But he wasn’t anything besides a Blade either. He’d learned some about farming at Walden, but was that what he wanted to do for the rest of his life?

  Leith gripped the saddlehorn. Perhaps it was his injuries or Valor’s unfamiliar gait, but Leith couldn’t seem to fall into a relaxed rhythm. Instead, Valor’s strides jarred his bones as if he were no better rider than a two-year-old.

  A new horse. A new life. And he couldn’t find a rhythm with either of them.

  There was also Renna to think about. How did he go about courting her properly? And—someday, eventually—when he married her, was there a role he was expected to take, a role he didn’t even know existed?

  What did he know about a peaceful life? About how towns or families or anything like that worked? He’d grown up in the back alleys of Blathe before being trained as a Blade. Shad and Renna and Brandi had all these things that they just knew, and Leith didn’t.

  Valor lurched over
a clump of dead grass. Leith squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a quick breath. Pain flared across his chest.

  How far had they gone? He swayed. He shouldn’t be this weak. It had been four weeks since the battle. But the burns and broken bones drained his strength, even if the bruises and whiplashes had faded.

  “How’re you holding up?”

  Shad’s voice dragged Leith from his pained stupor. He forced himself to straighten in his saddle. Sweat trickled between his shoulder blades. Was his forehead covered with sweat too? If he swiped at it, Shad would know he was trying to hide his pain. “I’ll make it.”

  Shaking his head, Shad reined in his horse. “We’ll take a break here.”

  All around them, horses huffed at the halt. Leather creaked as the soldiers stretched in their saddles.

  “You don’t have to call a break on my account.” Leith gritted his teeth. He could keep going. He wasn’t going to give in to the weakness lacing across his chest.

  “The rest isn’t just for you.” Shad swung from the saddle and nodded toward Lord Alistair, who also didn’t seem to be sitting straight in the saddle. He’d suffered wounds defending Walden, including a crushed elbow that paralyzed his left hand.

  Leith gripped the saddlehorn. How was he going to get off the horse? He’d barely managed getting on earlier this morning. The way his hands and legs shook, he would collapse the moment he tried to drop to the ground.

  Shad strolled to Valor’s side. Leith swung his left leg over the saddle. Thankfully, Valor was steady enough to stand still while Leith dismounted on the wrong side.

  As soon as his left leg touched the ground, it buckled. Shad caught him, and he pulled his right foot from the stirrup. Pulling Leith’s arm over his shoulder, Shad hauled him a few feet away where Renna had already spread a blanket on the ground. The tall grass beneath the blanket bent and cushioned Leith’s ribs as he lay down.

  He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing. Shad was right. He’d needed a rest.