Venture Unleashed (The Venture Books) (25 page)

A loud bang came from the next room, as the lid to a trunk Chance had opened fell shut. Venture stopped, raised his head, and rested his chin on the top of Jade’s head instead. Part of him wanted the kid to just disappear; the other part of him knew he ought to be glad he was there, to prevent him from getting Jade into just the sort of trouble her father most feared.

“Come on, Vent.” Jade pulled away and tugged him over to the couch. “Sit down and open it.”

Venture laid the package across his lap and picked at the string.

When his fight-gnarled fingers struggled with the too-small knots, Jade said, “Here.”

She reached under her skirt and produced a small, sharp knife. He took it, and she shrugged at his raised eyebrows. He held back his impulse to ask her what else she had hidden under there, and ran the little blade swiftly under each bit of string, slicing through them. He unwrapped the bundle.

“Oh, Jade.”

“I had Flora make them just for you.”

In Venture’s lap were the most beautifully simple, the most perfect sword and dagger he’d ever seen. He stood immediately and drew the sword from its sheath, ignoring the pain in his strained elbow. Carved into the sword’s pommel, where Crested men would have marked it with the emblems of their family lineage, and where others would have displayed the roaring head of Heval, this weapon was engraved with the symbol of his faith, flanked by a
D
for
Delving
. It wasn’t elaborate, but still, it was a sort of crest of his own. He ran his forefinger along the channel down the middle of the blade. He was far from worthy of such a gift.

“This,” he said, tracing his finger over his initial on the pommel, “was a very bold thing to do, Jade Fieldstone.”

“You’re a bold man, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I guess I am.” He bent down to kiss her on the cheek. “It’s perfect for me.” With the sword in his right hand, he pressed on the blade with his left. It bent, then returned to true. “Amazing.” He tossed the sword lightly in his hand, admiring its perfect weight and the fit of the wide cruciform guard and leather-wrapped grip in his hand. “Full tang?”

“Of course. The Newmans won’t make them any other way.”

“When did you do this?”

“I had Flora begin work on them a few years ago. I helped her design them, starting when you first left. I missed you, and all I could think about was when you’d be free. I wanted to do something for you, to have something to give you when you were free. The day you came to the smithy, when I told you I was having a sword made—”

“This is it? This is the sword?”

“It was for you.”

“Even after I told you to leave me alone?”

“I told you I never stopped loving you.”

He met her eyes and saw more there than love.
Fear
. She’d given him these gifts now, rather than waiting until he was free. Because she was afraid she wouldn’t get another chance? Because she was afraid he needed them now? He returned the sword to its sheath, fearing for her in a way he never had before. “You’re supplying a runaway bondsman with weapons. Are you that worried about me, Jadie?”

She rose, put her hand to his cheek, and looked into his eyes. “You ought to have them. It’s only right. And yes, I am worried about you. I’d be a fool not to be. Please take them, Vent.”

“Of course I’ll take them.” He laid down the sword and picked up the dagger, its bade so sharp to the eye that he didn’t dare run his finger over it. “When I get back I’ll have to tell Flora personally that she’s brilliant.”

“No one would know you’re a man who prefers to fight with his hands, the way you look at those weapons. Almost the way you look at me.”

“Only because they were forged out of your love.”

“No, because they’re such fine pieces of work.”

“So are you, Jade Fieldstone.”
And one day I’m going to enjoy having you far more than I enjoyed receiving these.

He smiled and flashed her a wink, and she flushed as though she knew his thoughts. He tossed the dagger back onto the couch, caught her hand in his, and pulled her close again.
 

“Thank you,” he said, and he kissed her again, as long as he dared.
 

When he stopped, she lay her head against his chest, still holding onto him tight. “I’ve heard things, Vent.”

“What kind of things?”

“Everyone thinks you’re a long shot to win this year. I know better. I know you can do it.”

With his hand under her chin, he tipped her face up. “But?”

“People talk about you fighting, winning the Championship one day. And some of them say it won’t ever happen, not because they don’t think you’ll ever be good enough, but because they won’t let it happen—the Cresteds. And some say that if you do win, they won’t let you get away with it.”

“Shh.” He’d never told her about the threats, about the attack. What would she think if she knew? He wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Everything that’s happened in my life, who I am, what I can do, even you and me, it’s not an accident. This is all going to work out. We have to have faith in that.”

“You sound like your mother,” she said affectionately.

His mother. His mother, who believed God had a reason for everything. He wasn’t sure he believed that. He wasn’t sure he believed anything he’d just said. His mother would’ve told him it was wrong, what he’d done. That, he was sure of.

“Come back right away.”

“Of course.”

“Promise me, Vent. Promise me you’ll come straight back, win or lose.”

“There isn’t going to be any losing.”

“I have faith in you, Vent.”

After he showed Jade out, Venture pulled open the drawer of his bedside table and took out a beloved book she’d given him for his birthday years ago. Paper, he could buy later, but he packed his favorite pen. He glanced at the window, at the afternoon sun. He half expected to see Grant Fieldstone, with his sword, perhaps accompanied by a few of the town guards, coming for him.

Dasher and Earnest would be home soon. Venture had told them he had to work at the Big House, so they’d spent the morning at Beamer’s without him. Chance, he’d asked to stay at the rented house, to wait for his return. He’d hoped to bring the kid some good news—news he’d have the privilege of hearing first, as he was the only one privy to what was going on concerning Jade and her family. Maybe it would have made up for the uncertainty he’d been put through because of it.
 

Instead, Chance was kneeling on the floor, carefully folding one of his shirts, looking troubled. Venture had already packed the rest of his things and much of Earnest and Dasher’s for them. Their preparations ought to have been exciting for Chance; they were leaving for the Championship, after all.

He knelt down next to Chance and grasped his shoulders in his hands. “You’re a good friend to me, you know that?”

The boy shook his head, but he couldn’t help smiling. “You good to me. Before—before was bad, Mr. Delving.” Venture watched his smile fade and his eyes take on a hollow look. “Lots of bad men.”

Venture gave him another hug.

“They lock you up because the lady?”

“Nobody’s going to lock me up.” Venture squeezed Chance tight, then let him go. “You’re going to love the capital. And you’re going to sit on my bench right next to Dasher and Earnest and watch me fight in the Championship. You’ll have the best seat in the arena.”

Venture carried his bag into the main room and placed it with the other bags. Familiar laughter echoed in the street outside. Earnest and Dasher were back. How would they take it? He supposed it didn’t really matter. He didn’t have much choice about it now. He’d made his choice that morning. Really, he’d made it years ago.

Earnest and Dasher eyed the open bags on the floor, glanced at each other, then back at Venture.

For once, Chance was the first to speak. “We leaving.”

“I need to get out of here.”

“What?” Earnest said.

“Today? But we’re leaving the day after tomorrow anyway.” Dasher tossed his workout bag aside.

“Today,” Venture said.

“Why?” Earnest gave him a penetrating look.

“Because I’m ready to leave now.”

“Did something happen?” Earnest said.

“Look, I’m leaving today. If you guys can’t do that, then you can just meet up with me later.” He buckled the straps over his bag with finality.

“Vent Delving, you’d better start talking. Right now.”

“I’m not twelve years old anymore, Earnest. I’ll talk about what I want to talk about.”

“It’s all right, Champ. We’ll go.”

“What do you mean, ‘We’ll go’—just like that, with no explanation?” Earnest said.

“He doesn’t feel right about staying. I trust him. That’s explanation enough for me.”

“Something’s happened. There’s more to it than that. Come on, Vent,” Earnest said, softening, “how are we supposed to make sure you’re safe if you don’t tell us about it?”

“I just want to get my bag and get my hind end in the carriage and go already. Can’t you understand that?”

“That’s all there is to it?”

“That’s right.” He looked straight into Earnest’s dark, knowing eyes.

Venture had to win the Championship now. He was a fugitive; he’d broken his bond to his master. The only way out of the penalty for that was to be freed, and the only way to be freed was to buy his way out. He must have that prize money and present the proper amount to Grant before he got caught. Long shot or not, there was no other option. What he’d told Grant about a loan from Dasher had only been a bluff. He wouldn’t think of asking for such a thing, especially now. Dasher and Earnest couldn’t know about what he’d just done, not if they were to give him the help he needed to make it to the Championship. Dasher’s status might spare him doing time in the lockup, but Earnest wouldn’t fare so well if he were caught knowingly helping a runaway bondsman.

“Come on. Let’s go.” Dasher hefted up a bag. But Earnest just stood there, arms crossed, shaking his head.
 

“What does it matter, Earnest? Let it go. It’s just a couple of days.”

Earnest stared back, still unmoved.

“Are you coming or not?” Venture said.

“Things don’t just hit you all of a sudden, Vent. That’s not the way you work.”

“Don’t start. I don’t have anything else to say. I won’t have anything else to say the next time you ask me or the next.” Earnest glowered at him, and he changed his tone. “I want you with me, Earnest. I need you with me.”

“As your trainer or as your friend?”

“Both.”

Earnest shook his head, but silently turned to his bag and began checking its contents. He would come. They both knew he was being less than honest, but still, Earnest would come.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Four main roads stretched through an open prairie to the capital—one road coming from from each Quarter. Alongside each of these roads, about half a mile from the outer edges of Founders Rock, a white stone pillar was erected, with an iron rod protruding out, from which hung a banner bearing the crest of the city and the greeting,
Welcome to Founders Rock, center of Richland.
Venture had always felt a surge of excitement when he saw that banner while on business trips with Grant. That feeling had only intensified when he came to watch Dasher, then to compete in the Championship himself for the first time. This year he was coming not just to fight, but to make the most of his only chance to become who he was meant to be.

He glanced out the window, then at Dasher and Chance, asleep on the seat across from him. He held back his desire to shake them awake and tell them they were about to enter the city proper. All that remained of the old walls and gates surrounding Founders Rock were drawings in history books. Officials with modernization and growth in mind had torn what was left of them down over fifty years ago so that the city, which crowded around the city green and the old parks like an overstuffed old woman sucking in her breath, could exhale and burst happily through its seams. The further from the city center, where the capitol and the green lay, the wider the roads, the roomier the buildings.

He put his hand on the sword lying on the carriage seat next to him, remembering the look on Jade’s face when she gave it to him, and regretting that he was going to have to leave it behind at Regal’s. He didn’t dare carry it to the arena; his face and his status were too well-known now. The dagger, tucked inside his pant leg, he could get away with carrying, but he’d have to pass it off to Dasher to relinquish to the tournament guards when they entered the arena. With the exception of the guards, no one was allowed into the arena armed.

Of course, if Grant had sent the lawmen after him,
they
would be armed. He tried to ignore that fear just as he tried to ignore the pain in his elbow. The pain he’d been so certain would be gone by now. He told himself that it wasn’t that bad, that he could still pull this off.

Jade had wanted him to promise to come back, win or lose, and he felt guilty about the way he’d worked his way around making such a vow. He couldn’t imagine not coming back any more than she could. But he couldn’t imagine coming back as anything but a champion, either. What grief must Jade be dealing with from her father now? How much more grief would he cause her if he lost?

“It’s done, Champ. I got you registered.” Dasher had just returned to their room at Regal’s, from his mission to convince the tournament officials to register Venture secretly. He’d gone to persuade them that it was a necessity for his safety that the public, even the other fighters, not know that Venture Delving was here yet.

“But?” Earnest said, anticipating from Dasher’s tone that there was a catch.

Dasher ran his hand through his hair, took a deep breath, then said, “I told them who I am.”

“You told them?” Venture sat up straighter on the bed.

“I needed more leverage. Being a Glen, it turns out, was the right kind of leverage.”

Venture just shook his head at that. Of course there were Glens in positions of influence in the Department of War, who had indirect power over the positions the Uncrested tournament officials and other members of the Fighting Commission occupied. Glens, who, though they probably didn’t agree with Dasher on much of anything, nevertheless shared his name.