INBORN (The Sagas of Di'Ghon) (13 page)

However, i
f its normal diet was withheld, eventually it would consume other things. Leafy foliage would be its next choice. On a steady diet of that the beast could survive for a couple months before it would begin to weaken and eventually die.

Yet, according to the book, after a period of just one day of not eating any kind of plant life
, the beast’s strength would start to wane. After just three days of hunger the beast would be ready to eat anything.

Even meat. 

The three days of waiting that the book required nearly drove Lisella Ontar mad. The hold was a busy place to begin with. There was barely a moment in the stretch of a day that didn’t see her having to make some sort of decision. What was left of her time she spent planning with Irkhir, meticulously going over what needed to happen next. Yet, even with as much as there was to occupy her every waking moment she found herself growing more impatient by the minute.

Lisella stole a glance at the chain moorings to make sure that they had been reinforced, not wanting to think about what would happen if the dra ripped free before they completed the process.

The First all watched her with detached fascination. Wondering if they had all placed bets on her resolve, she forced a grim smile. Whoever wagered against her this day would find his purse lighter.

Irkhir’s eyes whispered encouragement, the only kind he was given to, reminders of her father. She recalled his words from only hours ago and steeled herself for what was to come. Weakness was repaid with death in the land of her fathers.

At her signal men with bulging arms began wrestling cranks. With loud metallic clacks, the walls of chain loosened, allowing the dra to stand an inch at a time. Once it had enough room the creature flexed its muscles and unfurled its powerful wings. It lowered its head and crooned at the close chain ceiling. There was no room for it to launch and it knew it.

Lisella walked around the enclosure, examining the dra. It was mostly blue, except for a few colored ridges around its eyes. Although it was
noticeably paler than its first night of captivity it was still the color of the sky. Smooth overlapping scales glittered down its belly, neck, and legs, while its head was covered in tightly stretched skin. The colored ridges jutted up around the sides and over the tops of its solid blue eyes. There were no pupils but somehow it felt like the creature watched her as she walked.

“Now,
Mistress?” Irkhir stood, legs planted wide, axes hanging from his hips. His armor gleamed, picking up the blue light that reflected off the creature’s scales.

What was about to happen, had to. In the end, no matter how distasteful it was, it was for the good of all. Yet, that didn’t mean she had to like it. She wasn’t about to stand for anyone ever liking this part of her destiny.

Lisella took the scene in. The entire company of the First, her finest soldiers, was gathered at the top of the tower, surrounding the walls of chain in a ring of crimson weave and polished armor.  All but one of them stood with faces that could have been carved from stone. All except one. The man grinned in what could only be some sort of twisted anticipation.

Keriim
.

He was a disciplined and experienced soldier who had a vicious bent. As one of her personal guard, Irkhir had always insisted it was a good quality. Squeamishness could get her killed if her assassin turned out to be an old lady. Yet, in this he should have known better.

She had already decided what she would do if she saw one of her men smiling this day. Lisella Ontar flourished, letting her flowing gown disguise her movements. She drew her knife.  With a flick of her wrist that Keriim never saw coming she sliced across his forehead. Blood streamed from the cut, momentarily blinding him, giving her all the time she needed to dance clear. By the time he blinked his eyes open Irkhir and the rest of the First already had axes out.

“My
Mistress, if I have displeased you…” His words were hollow, lacking the feeling he should have held for her. But he didn’t hesitate in falling to his knees, forearms pressed to the smooth stone floor in supplication. With his head bowed he acknowledged the axes that only a nod of her head would bring raining down on him. She waited, watching the man take breaths in a slow deliberate rhythm. She didn’t speak until a small pool of blood had formed beneath the man’s bleeding bent head.

Like a curious dog, the
dra tilted its head from side to side. It eyed the bleeding Keriim. The beast swished its tail back and forth in soft whirs. It hissed through needle sharp teeth. The sound that sliced neatly through the air reminded Lisella of the whisper of a blade leaving the scabbard for the first time. With vicious intent the dra darted toward Keriim. It pressed against the chain wall and tasted the air with its tongue. Bile rose in her throat and she swallowed hard.

Every man stood silent.

“Rise, Keriim.” She said. “You will live to be of service to me.” Then she held out her hand and he kissed it on both sides as she added to all of them, “Every one sacrificed here does Ontar a service that can only be repaid in the next life. I will not see their gift sullied.” She paused to scan the men of the First, stopping to peer through the wolf’s head helmet into Irkhir’s eyes. Behind the long steel fangs that stretched across his face, the man’s stare was so cold it made icicles seem like summer pudding. But she knew that look and the barely imperceptible nod he afforded her. Yes, it was what her father would have done.

“My ancestors named the fiercest of Ontar’s warriors, First, eons ago. In the time of
the ancients, you were the first to receive the blessing of the blood of Ontar.” She paused to let it sink in, watching as a few of the men looked around between themselves. Like her they had all assumed that it meant that they died first, before her.

“In time we have lost much of what used to be, but, yes, this is why you have always been named such.  You, above all else, owe them everything you have, in this life, as in the next.  On my soul, if I ever see any one of you enjoy the sacrifice of these innocents,” She paused to level her glare at
Keriim’s bleeding forehead, “I will feed you to the dra instead.”

Every axe handle thumped the stone in unison.

“It is time.” She replied without betraying a hint of the disgust and rage she was already feeling about what needed to happen next.

A young girl was gently brought forward.
She wore a red blindfold that had two white lines painted on it. The lines across her eyes and the small crimson slip of a smock she wore were both a symbol of the purity of her soul.

“You may remove your blindfold child.” Lisella informed her.

A small tentative hand reached up and pulled down a corner of the fine cloth. When the girl saw Lisella Ontar standing in front of her she immediately curtsied, as was proper, even if it was clumsy. Her eyes looked oddly familiar to her. They were simultaneously both warm and cunning, and sparked with deep intelligence.

“Stop child. It is I who should bow to you.” Lisella inclined her head and the small girl’s jaw dropped
as suddenly as if the ligaments that held it up were sliced with a razor.

Weakness was repaid with death...

The little girl quickly recovered. Lisella watched as her lips snapped shut and her eyes filled with alarm. She had good instincts, sensing danger long before it was upon her. Big eyes darted about trying to make out why she should be afraid.

Lisella made eye contact with the unlucky soldier who drew the
double dotted lot.  He shifted into position behind her.

“Your sacrifice will be repaid in the next life.” Lisella intoned as she nodded to the unlucky soldier holding a long catchpole. Right about then the little girl caught sight of the dra. She burst into uncoordinated motion, stumbling backwards in a vain effort to get away. But it was too late. The soldier tightened the noose on the catchpole an instant before she moved.

Lisella forced herself to breathe in and out, ignoring the pleading eyes of the young girl as she was dragged back kicking and screaming. The crimson clad soldier stood, his shoulders hunched over and his chin down.  He stopped in front of her with the girl kicking at the end of the pole. He said nothing. Just paused and looked at her, eyes questioning, his unspoken plea almost as ardent as the girl’s.

“What are you doing?”
The little girl cried. “What did I do?” She pleaded, her feet churning uselessly beneath her.

“Your sacrifice will bring a new era of power to the lands of Ontar. Your name will be sung for all time in our halls.” Lisella bowed reverently instead of crumpling to the ground and crying. This had come to her. She would see it through.

“Damn you Ontars. Save your scraping for my brother. He’ll kill you for this. Gut you like a pig. Damn you all to nine he…lls.” She flinched as the catchpole noose cinched tighter around her neck, forcing the spit she had intended for Lisella’s face to dribble instead down her own chin.

In spite of what she knew had to happen Lisella found that she liked this little girl’s grit.

A tear ran down the soldier’s eye but still, he said nothing. There wasn’t any need. His eyes said it all. She was as much a monster as the dra the Caller had brought to them. She knew he was right. Not everyone could do what was necessary to lead. Not like this.

It took steel to forge greatness. She needed as much cold hard steel in her heart as would be wielded on the fields of battle.

This had come to her. She hadn’t gone looking for it. The Code chose her. The book told of past Ontars who did not find the courage to see the blood reborn. None ended well. She would see it through, no matter the cost.

Steel.

Lisella hardened her gaze and nodded to the soldier to finish his duty. He ground his teeth, heaved the purple faced girl into the air, and surged forward. With her feet still dangling frantically for purchase and her hands grasping at the rope, she didn’t know she had been thrown through the small chain flap until she lay gasping for air beneath the foot of the dais.

Lisella Ontar reined in her resolve for the thousandth time and forced herself to watch. She wanted to ignore the absolute terror in her eyes as
the little girl realized where she was, but Lisella already knew she’d remember how the little girl’s face drained of all color at the sight of the dra.

The
creature hissed.

The girl’s
little mouth opened to scream. Perhaps she had. But if sound came out Lisella didn’t hear it, and, she was thankful for it.

The dra struck.

With a speed that would intimidate lightning it leaped across the chain walled chamber and raked the girl with talons as long as daggers. Entrails tumbled from her belly like writhing oily snakes. The little girl found her voice with a wail so soul piercing that it no longer sounded human. She was screaming before she hit the ground and when she did she thrashed like she didn’t have a backbone.

The dra backed away, head tilted and low. Its twitching muscles coiled tight, ready to leap again. 

What was it waiting for?

Battle hardened soldier’s boots shifted everywhere, all of them seeing the same thing. Before their very eyes the girl’s wounds, long gashes across her entire midsection burst into blue smoky flame. She thrashed, rolling over her own guts, in a vain effort to extinguish her flesh.

Lisella choked as greasy smoke filled her nostrils, hot tears nearly blinding her.

“Help her!!” Lisella screamed. She was grasping the chain wall before she knew what she was doing. The creature hissed and its head swiveled, leveling its pupil-less blue orbs
on her. Lisella flinched as Irkhir’s big hand on her shoulder brought her back to reality and away from the chain.

If they heard her command, none of the men moved. It was no use anyway. The girl was dead already. Lisella couldn’t tear her blurry eyes away as the lines of blue flame advanced mercilessly across her body. In mere seconds the little girl was transformed into a smoking charred black statue.

The second the flame had done its work, the dra pounced. Hissing, purring, tearing, snapping, and crunching were the only sounds Lisella thought she would hear for a long time. Thankfully it spread its wings, blocking the sight from view as it devoured every bit of her.

How the dreaded book’s images had tormented her as a child… Yet not one of her childhood nightmares came close to comparing to the real life scene she’d just beheld with her own eyes.

Lisella swallowed back more bile as she realized that the real price of glory would not only be the lives of a few slaves and some of her men. The real price just might be the sacrifice of her very own soul. Suddenly the little girl’s last words, damning the Ontars to the nine hells, took on an entirely too real meaning.

Bloodborn

Lisella stood spellbound, staring at the last spot she saw the girl’s charred body. The dra devoured every bit of her. It even licked up the charcoal smear she left behind. The creature raised its head, its solid blue eyes fastening on her with hungry intensity. It took a step toward her and Lisella backed away a half step before she remembered there was no way the dra was going to be able to get out of its steel prison.