Page 46 of Sword of Desire
Ackley went very still. “What do you mean?”
“She’s in the castle. Where she has been this entire time. I’ve been wondering what happened to Morton.”
Confusion washed through Ackley. “I’m not following what you’re saying.”
“Then let’s back up a step,” Galvin said. “Why does Morton think she’s missing?”
“He told me no one has seen her in weeks.” He ran his hands through his hair, trying to remember the exact words Morton had used.
“Rikter runs the inside intel, Morton delivers messages between the outside and inside, and I am responsible for the outside intelligence.”
“What are you saying?” Ackley asked.
“If there was a problem, Rikter would have left a message for Morton who would have given it to me to deliver.”
And that hadn’t happened. Morton had delivered the message, not Galvin. Ackley should have realized this sooner. “The only way Morton would have brought me the message is if someone told him to.” It felt as if thousands of ants crawled over his skin.
“Exactly. Which means we’ve been compromised.” Galvin’s words hung heavy in the air between them.
The leaves of the cornstalks blew, sounding like a light rain. Ackley had been so focused on saving Harley, that he hadn’t stopped to analyze the situation properly. “I’ve known Rikter for years,” he said, thinking out loud. “There’s no way he would have made a deal with Lyle.”
“And neither would Morton.”
Ackley narrowed his eyes. “What are you saying?”
“Harley is working with the enemy.” He tossed a soldier’s uniform to him. “Find out for yourself.”
Ackley caught the clothes. “I was told Ruthar has been captured?”
He nodded. “He was brought here and killed. The soldiers cheered, thinking it was you who’d been hanged.”
* * *
Sitting in the middle of the cornfield, Ackley spent hours trying to work through it. No matter which angle he looked at the situation, he couldn’t fathom Harley being on Lyle’s side. Not after Ackley had been to Lyle’s house and spent so much time with Harley. He knew her. And she’d sworn allegiance to Ackley and Owen, not Lyle.
Still, he couldn’t figure out how Morton had gotten bad information and relayed it to Ackley. He knew Morton’s family, had known Morton for years, and felt confident he couldn’t be bought. Morton was a Knight through and through. Same as Rikter. However, somehow inaccurate information had gotten out of the castle, all the way to Ackley.
The next logical conclusion was that this could be a trap. The only problem with that theory, Ruthar, his decoy, had been captured and killed. Ackley had to assume that Lyle thought Ackley dead. That being the case, there was no reason to try and lure Ackley to the castle. Regardless, he’d have to be extra careful.
Galvin had said Harley was alive and well. She’d been seen walking amongst the soldiers, handing out bread. Several of the servants had also recently spotted her in the castle. No one claimed she was in any sort of distress. Ackley had to see her for himself. He needed to make sure she was okay. A seed of doubt crept in. There was a chance, granted a tiny one, that she’d been working with Lyle this entire time. As wrong as that felt, as much as Ackley didn’t want to believe it to be true, he had to at least acknowledge the possibility.
It was time for him to get to work. Thick clouds covered the sky making the air crisp and cool. He needed to gain access to the castle, which meant he had to know who came and went, and what guards were on duty when. Hiding in the nearby cornfield would do him no good. He decided to put on the soldier’s uniform and go into camp. Being among the Melenia soldiers would be the quickest way to learn the most information.
After changing, he headed toward camp. Enough soldiers came and went on patrols that he shouldn’t have any trouble walking around the tents as long as he pretended to know what he was doing.
Galvin had told him which tent he used in case Ackley needed to hide. While he didn’t anticipate that happening, he headed toward that general direction. The thick smell of mud mixed with burning wood from the fires wafted in the air. Ackley neared a group of men sitting around a fire eating their supper. He pretended to be fixing the stake of the tent while listening in on their conversation for pertinent information.
“I heard they brought in the same man who crowned King Coden,” one of the soldiers said.
“When do you think they’ll crown her?” another asked.
“Who knows.”
Ackley had been so caught up in the men’s conversation that he failed to hear the soldier approaching behind him. He should have known better. The tip of a sword nipped into his back.
“Stand,” the man holding a sword demanded.
Ackley silently cursed.
