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  SIGN of the KNIFE

  SIGN of the KNIFE

  R.C. Leach

  Copyright 2022

  R.C. Leach

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, mechanical, or otherwise, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the express written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Published by

  Village Lane Publishing

  Rock Springs, Wyoming

  October 2022

  ISBN: 978-1-951496-30-2, Hardback

  ISBN: 987-951496-29-6, Paperback

  ISBN: 978-951496-31-9, eBook

  Dedicated to my mother,

  who always believed I could write,

  And to Alan,

  who believes I can do everything.

  Prologue

  Dust floated in shafts of sunlight that fell through cracks in the shed walls. I breathed in bits of straw that hung in the air, then let my breath out again.

  Roland repeated the question. A green ceremonial knife was tucked in his waist band, intricately carved with twisting flowers and vines. I wanted to see it more closely, to see if the flowers were mira blossoms.

  It was symbolic, he told me when I’d asked about it. Too sacred to actually use in an initiation ceremony, but too important to be left out. I didn’t understand, but since the other Order members were arriving, stepping silently into the shadows at the back of Butcher Bruke’s shed, I didn’t ask more.

  One of Roland’s hands held mine. The other gripped a silver blade that glinted in the dusty light. Five men, Butcher Bruke and four that I didn’t know, stood behind Roland, hands behind their backs, watching my every move. A single candle burned on the ground beside us. It sat in the center of a cross within a circle.

  “Do you, Mira, swear on your life to dedicate your every breath to the Order of the Dragon, with an oath to follow Domhnall in every detail, no matter how significant or small his instructions may seem to you?”

  My life? That familiar pull in my chest told me to run.

  1

  My eyes flicked back to the stone knife at his waist. Years or throwing knives at the barn wall, dreaming of the day I would find a way to fight—and now, I wanted to run?

  I put my shoulders back and nodded agreement. I trusted Roland. He loved me. I felt his hand in mine and squeezed it tighter. He would never ask me to do anything dangerous.

  “You have to swear it, Mira.”

  “Yes.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and said it more loudly. “Yes. I swear on my life that I…” I looked at him questioningly.

  “Dedicate every breath to the Order of the Dragon.”

  “Dedicate every breath to the order of the dragon,” I repeated after him, my hand damp as melting ice in his. “With an oath to follow Domhnall in every detail, no matter how significant or small his instructions may seem to me.”

  He lifted my hand and raised the silver blade. Instinctively, I pulled back, but he gripped me more tightly and pulled the knife slowly across my palm.

  I gasped as a thin stream of blood ran down my wrist, but I didn’t cry out. This was what it took to keep my younger sister, Catriona, safe. To make the kingdom safe. I gritted my teeth as this small sacrifice of my blood and pain brought me into the only group strong enough—brave enough—to stand up to the king.

  I glanced at Roland. Since he was already a member of the Order, this also bound me to him.

  He turned the knife over and squeezed my hand, letting my blood drip onto the blade’s handle where it soaked into the dark wood, already stained with blood of other Order members.

  “You are one with Domhnall,” Roland and the five men said in unison. “You are one with us.”

  I swallowed and made myself look back at them as I nodded. “I am one with Domhnall. I am one with you.”

  2

  CHAPTER 1

  The last rays of evening sun fell across the empty field and tangled in the bare branches of the apricot trees, casting an orange glow on the ring of stones and ashes behind the garden.

  Catriona’s fingers grasped mine and for a moment, my sister and I held hands as we stood on the back steps of Mama’s cottage and watched sunlight slip into shadow. Our breath made clouds in the evening.

  “I got a full crown and two pence for the star quilt,” I said.

  “Amara bought it.”

  Catriona let go of my hand and blew on her fingers for warmth.

  I scanned the empty garden rows, wondering how soon we could plant. Frost was still heavy on the ground in the mornings.

  The gods knew planting wouldn’t come soon enough. The coin from Mama’s last quilt would get us through the next moon, but wouldn’t stretch much further than that. “It was a good price, Cat.”

  She pushed her long blonde hair over her shoulder with a little flick, the way she did when she was upset, and didn’t answer.

  She’d always been Mama’s favorite. Sometimes I wondered if it was because of how pretty she was. My red hair was so different from hers and Mama’s.

  3

  My eyes strayed to the ashes of the funeral pyre in the ring of stones, and I looked away—at the trees, the blue painted chicken coop, the darkening sky, anywhere but there.

  I pulled my knife from my waistband and felt the comforting weight of it in my hand. Weight that meant Catriona and I might not starve as long as there were rabbits in the woods. I balanced it on my fingers for a moment before I threw it, lightning fast, into the old oak tree. It made a satisfying thud and half disappeared into the center of the ring I’d carved several summers ago as a target.

  Catriona sat on the steps, watching.

  I walked across the frozen ground to retrieve the knife.

  “We’ll have to go through her things soon. See if there’s anything else we can sell.”

  She took in a breath but before she could respond, I said,

  “We’re not selling her, Cat. But we need to—”

  “Just stop, all right? I’m not ready yet.”

  I closed my mouth and struggled to keep the words in. My hand went to my wrist as I thought of Roland.

  This would be the perfect time for him to do what we’d been talking about for years. A wedding bracelet would mean he could support Cat and me, take us away from this tiny farm, away from Brynn, out into the world where he lived. We could get married right away. We wouldn’t have to wait until next spring or summer. No one, not even Jessima, the village gossip, would have anything negative to say about a quick wedding after Mama’s death. All the reasons we’d been waiting were fading. One simple engagement bracelet could solve everything.

  But would he see it like that?

  I pulled the knife from the tree with a growl. I had sunk in far.

  Cat said. “I’ll go make potatoes for supper.”

  I was turning to follow her in when something moving at the edge of the woods caught my eye.

  4

  We both stiffened. I gripped my knife more tightly.

  Catriona stopped, one hand on the door.

  The shadows moved again. There was no question, something was there.

  “There was a bear near the Vache’s,” Catriona whispered.

  “Last half moon.”

  “I heard. Go get the bow.”

  She pulled open the door as the shadowy figure moved again, emerging from the woods into the half-light.

  It was Roland. I let out my breath and dropped my knife into my waistband.

  “Really?” Catriona said. “Can’t he come up the road like a normal person? What is he, a bandit or something?”

  “Sh
ush. He’ll hear you.” More loudly, I called, “Great skies, I thought you were a bear!”

  He laughed as he crunched across the thin layer of snow.

  “I can still get the bow,” Catriona said under her breath. “In case you want to shoot him.”

  I gave her a look, and she rolled her eyes and stepped into the kitchen.

  In the dusky light, with the sunset at his back, Roland was a tall shadow, broad shouldered with his fair hair pulled back. At the bottom of the steps, he stopped, took my hand in his and kissed me. “I was hoping to find you here.”

  "Mm- hmm. Because there are so many other places I might be.”

  He grinned. “All right. So maybe I had a pretty good chance.” He sat on the back step. I sat beside him and leaned into the strength of him. His hands were warm around mine. His dark brown eyes were burning with intensity like they did when he was excited about politics or explaining Domhnall’s plans. He kissed me gently. “There’s something I want to ask you.”

  5

  My heart stumbled. He wrapped me in a hug, and I blinked to keep the tears of relief from my eyes. “I knew you would come,” I whispered into his shoulder.

  The relief that I might not have to solve everything on my own, might not have to protect and provide for Catriona by myself was like setting down a heavy stone.

  He let go and looked into my eyes. “Do you have any idea how beautiful your hair is in the setting sun?” He twisted the end of my long red braid around his finger before he kissed me again.

  He pushed my hair out of my eyes and smiled, making my heart stumble again. “It’s the color of sunset on the ocean. Do you know that?”

  I laid my head back on his chest. “You know I’ve never seen the ocean.”

  He pulled something from the pocket of his cloak.

  I inhaled.

  “I mentioned you to Domhnall.”

  “Domhnall?” I blinked and straightened. “Why would you do that?”

  “We take care of our own in the Order. He doesn’t have a lot of spare coin right now, with all the things he’s planning. But he sent you this.” He lifted my hand and dropped something into my palm.

  I looked down at two small copper circles.

  “They’re passage tokens for the steamboat, the Merry Whistler, for you and your sister to travel from Woodall to Climonta.”

  I stared at the copper tokens and struggled to make sense of what he said. These were not a wedding bracelet. I was bewildered by the mention of Domhnall, by the thought that Domhnall knew anything about me, personally. He might be saving the kingdom, but if I was honest, he also frightened me.

  And these weren’t a wedding bracelet.

  6

  Roland was a merchant. He sold gemstones, jewelry and ancient artifacts all over the kingdom of Gilan. The wedding bracelets at his tent in the market weren’t the simple stone or shell bracelets that women in Brynn wore. His were beautiful workmanships of silver and gold, some with gems of red or yellow, or even opals.

  I didn’t need gems. The gods knew they would be too flashy in a tiny village like Brynn. Probably even in Climonta. But secretly, I’d hoped he might give me one of the nicer ones. And any wedding bracelet would be better than… passage tokens?

  “Don’t look so confused.” He grinned at me. “I know you’ve always wanted to travel.”

  “Yes, but…” My heart began thumping. If Roland was taking us to Climonta, away from Brynn, that must mean he was going to marry me. Right? I closed my hands around the tokens and looked up at him. “Passage tokens?” I whispered. “Why would you want me to accompany you on a boat?”

  “Because I have something else for you, too.”

  Oh, dear gods, this was really happening.

  But Roland didn’t make any move toward his pockets.

  Instead, he took my hand and lifted it so I could see the scar that ran across my palm.

  I swallowed. I didn’t like looking at that scar. I was both intensely proud of it and secretly disturbed by it. I didn’t like that Roland had cut me, even though I knew he had to. I’d kept the cut hidden from Mama, so I wouldn’t have to answer questions about where it came from. Catriona saw it right after my initiation, back when it was raw and slowed my work around the house and with Mama’s quilts. But that was months ago, and Catriona had let it drop. She’d probably forgotten it completely with everything that happened since Mama got sick.

  Despite all that, the scar also made me walk a little taller. It was evidence, literally carved into me, of something I’d always felt deep in my bones—that I was more than just an ordinary girl on a 7

  tiny farm in a forgotten village. Because I had to be meant for more than this. More than harvesting beans or selling quilts. More than struggling to survive like all the other women I knew. I desperately wanted to explore the villages beyond our own, to see other markets and learn how other people lived in far-off places like Climonta. I wanted to make a difference in the kingdom, to do something to change the world.

  I looked at the scar, a clean white line across the softest part of my palm. It was still painful as Roland bent my hand back.

  I winced and tried to tug my fingers from his, but just like the night of my initiation, he held on tight.

  I looked up into Roland’s deep brown eyes, my heart thudding.

  He smiled as he whispered, “When Domhnall sits on the throne in Gilan, he promised me that you and I will be rewarded above all others. You, his assassin, and me, his apprentice.” He bent his forehead to mine. “You’ve been training a long time, my love. Domhnall is ready for you to act.”

  8

  9

  CHAPTER 2

  “You were out there long enough. What did he do, ask you to marry him?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” I forced a laugh, but my cheeks were burning. How had I thought he was going to marry me? He’d said we couldn’t get married until summer. Why had I thought he might change his mind? Just because Mama had died? Tears stung my eyes and I blinked them away, not wanting Catriona to see, angry with myself for feeling hopeful. Angry with Roland for doing exactly what he’d said he would do—wait to marry me until he was able to pause his business during the summer. Winter was his most important buying time. I knew that. So why had I hoped?

  Catriona looked at me over the potatoes she was peeling.

  Her blonde hair hung lose over her shoulders and she shrugged it back. Even though she was two years younger than me, fourteen to my sixteen, she sometimes acted like the older sister.

  “Please don’t look at me like that,” I said. “You look exactly like Mama.” The copper tokens clinked in the pocket of my skirt. Dear gods, I needed a minute to think.

  10

  A job, Roland said. Domhnall had a job and had requested me, specifically. But it didn’t involve any of the things I’d been trained to do.

  My mouth was dry. I poured a cup of water from the jug and drank it all.

  I stood before the fireplace and stared into the flames. How could I tell Catriona that we were leaving? How could I say it in a way that would sound good to her. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Dear gods, is this the right thing to do? I opened my eyes and let my breath out. If we were going to leave, we needed to sort through Mama’s belongings sooner, rather than later. That was something I could do. Something I had to do. I sucked in a breath.

  “I’m going to start going through Mama’s things.”

  Catriona stopped peeling, but I didn’t look at her. “I told you, I’m not ready.”

  I set Mama’s box of quilting things on the rug in front of the fireplace. “I’m trying to figure things out. I need help.”

  “Me too! I know. We both do. But that doesn’t mean we have to go through her things. It’s—it’s a violation. She hated anyone looking in her boxes, even her quilting and embroidery patterns. She’s been gone less than one full moon. We don’t have to do this tonight.”

  I hesitated. Mama never let us get into her bo
xes. She had three, all made of wood, all sealed with simple locks. One held her quilting supplies, a smaller one kept her embroidery, and a third held her personal belongings. The key was the same for all three and it hung from a string she kept pinned to the pocket of her skirts.

  She was the most private person I’d ever known. She hated attention from anyone. If someone looked at her too long, she would duck her head and hurry down the street. If a villager asked personal questions, she would walk away. And strangest of all to me, although she was beautiful, she hated seeing herself. She refused to have mirrors in the house, which drove Catriona crazy. I 11

  didn’t mind so much. I just wondered what had happened to make her want to be completely invisible.

  But I needed her now. I needed her quiet wisdom and sure answers. She might have driven me crazy with all her rules and restrictions, but she always knew what was right.

  This thing Roland asked me to do—Domhnall asked me to do—for the Order, was completely logical. I was to meet Roland in the neighboring town of Woodall in three days. Until now, Woodall was as far as I’d ever ventured from home. He would have a package for me to carry—a simple feed sack filled with explosives. I would bring it to the capitol city, Climonta, for Domhnall to use in the attack on the palace.

  If I was caught, of course, I’d be executed. But that’s why he was asking me. Because I was a girl. And the soldiers around Climonta would never think to search a poor farm girl.

  As far as I knew, I was the only girl in the Order of the Dragon. And I had the perfect cover story. Our mother had recently died, and my sister and I needed work. In Climonta, we could find work. Never mind that my work would be as an assassin. My skill with knife throwing had caught the attention of several people, including Roland—one of Domhnall’s top assistants. It was perfectly natural for Catriona and me to travel to the capitol. We knew how to embroider, thanks to Mama’s amazing skills. The cloths we made would sell for much more in the capitol than they would here. No one here in the village would suspect anything. Everyone knew we were struggling to make it through the winter. There would be no suspicious gossip to tip off the king’s collectors or soldiers.