The Brotherhood: Blood (40 page)

“I’ve always though they were limited on resources.”

“Oh, anything but. Sure—it may not rain so often there, but that doesn’t mean they are limited on food or water. Mages can enchant hidden rivers from the ground and turn them into wells. Men and women can farm plants that need not the kind of moisture the ordinary variety need. The king himself is blind and arrogant with greed. You would never see this kind of behavior in a true Elven society.”

“You’re not—”

“Referring to Drow? No. They are constantly warring between one another, for
one
small space of island. No. The true, white-blooded Elves have made it a point to unite in order to keep themselves from separating into such radical parties.”

“What about the Dwarves?” Odin asked. “Do they fight with one another like humans do?”

“The Dwarves are humble and keep to themselves. Their philosophy rings true even through such enlightened ears.”

Odin gave a slight nod. He pushed himself off the bed to stand beside his master. “So,” he said, drawing closer to the Elf. “You’re not going to tell us where we’re going, are you?”

“Not yet.”

When Miko turned his head, Odin caught a slight smirk on the Elf’s face.

The only thing he could think was,
Damn.

When the sun fell to the horizon the ocean turned orange. Beautiful, breathtaking, reflecting the light in hues of red and maroon that made it appear as though a separate entity itself—Odin grimaced, but didn’t bring his hand up to cover his eyes from his place at the window. He hadn’t realized how bright the sun’s reflection off the sea could be.

“Are you ready?” Miko asked.

Odin turned just in time to see Miko slide the hood over his face. Nova, just barely rising, pulled his shirt over his head and smoothed out his beard. “I am,” he said.

A few men snickered. Odin ignored them. Nova, on the other hand, muttered something so faint that Odin caught himself saying a quick prayer of respite. There was no need to get into a fight—not now, of all places.”

“Here here,” the bartender said, gesturing to three open spots on the bar. “Dinner comes with fried fish and liquor.”

“What kind?” Nova asked, eyes brightened as he settled into his seat.

“
Hard
liquor,” the man grinned. “A good mix of seaside ale for the three of you, complete with a bit of rainmelon mixed in.”

Odin turned to look at Nova. Eyes intent on an amber-pink liquid that stood in a series of large glass tubes no more than a few feet away from the counter, a bit of drool trailed out the side of his lip and into his beard. Odin almost reached up to wipe it aside before the bartender returned.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught his master drinking, so he figured he should as well. Upon taking the first sip, he grimaced, face scrunching in disgust. After a moment, however, the bitterness wore off to be replaced by a sweet feeling that he compared to the buzz of magic.

“Don’t drink too much too fast,” Miko explained. “You don’t want to get drunk.”

Meanwhile, Nova had just ordered a second.

You don’t have to worry about me getting drunk,
Odin thought, and couldn’t help but chuckle.

A few moments later, a bartender set a bowl of fish before each of them.

Just as Odin thought it was all over, the man slid an eye-searing-yellow lemon, bearing a mortal would down the center, onto his bowl. “For flavor,” he said.

Odin shrugged. He lifted a piece of fish, took a bite and decided he wouldn’t need the lemon after all.

While he ate, he couldn’t help but take in the way place looked. Though worn by ocean air, sweat, beer, spit and quite possibly even blood, the building had an ornate, rustic look to it that enhanced its charm and even did well enough to bolster its appearance. A few dents lined the far walls—where beer bottles had, most likely, been broken—while on the mantle above them a series of framed fish lay, preserved for all to see

“It’s Odin.” Out of respect, he reached over the counter and offered his hand. Acklan seemed taken aback, but shook it nonetheless.

“I’m Nova,” the older man said, lifting his hand from his fish and drink. He, too, shook Acklan’s hand before returning to his food.

Better than anything I could’ve come up with,
Odin thought, sliding a piece of fish into his mouth.

“Really?” the bartender asked, leaning forward as if to examine the Elf from beneath his shrouded hood. “You know… just between the two of us… I don’t mind if you’re black, so long as you’re not trouble.”

“He’s not black,” Odin frowned. “Why would you think that?”

“A lot of those over-the-border types cause trouble when they come through here. It’s no secret that we’re almost at war with those old boys, but that gives us no reason to not serve them, especially if they’re pure-blooded Ornalans. Why, we had a few in here a month or so back that decided to beat a guy up just because he asked what the desert was like.”

The scene, so vivid in Odin’s mind as if it had just been replayed before him, made him grimace. He imagined the patron—white, possibly, or as white as one could be in such an area—being accosted by a group of men who had nothing but trouble in mind. There would have been blood, he knew, and spit, and possibly a few missing teeth by the time was done with it, though he knew more than well that such a thing likely did not happen very often. The few black men he’d met at the castle hadn’t seemed bad, but maybe that was because they were royalty—refined, some could say, in tastes of etiquette and manners. He couldn’t be sure of plain fishermen, sea-travelling men or even nomads who were said to cross the borders every so often.

“So,” Acklan said, once again tilting his head back to examine Miko, “if you’re worried about someone saying something about you being black, don’t worry—they won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”

Odin returned to his food with little more than a shrug. Occasionally, he’d look up and glance at Acklan, particularly when he filled Nova’s glass, but looked at little else than his food, his friends and his server. Such a wandering gaze would likely only cause trouble in the long run, especially if they considered Miko to be a Kadarian and a likely threat.

With his mind in place and his emotions secured, Odin paced himself with his meal. When he finished, je pushed his now-empty bowl of fish up the counter, sipped the last bit of his liquor, then pushed that up as well.

The Elf lifted his glass, slid it under his hood, and swallowed the last little bit before setting it to the bar. Nova, though already finished with his meal, ordered yet another glass. Miko stood and walked to the man’s side. “That’s enough for now, Nova.”

“You need something,” the bartender asked, the bitter tone in his voice reminiscent of something much more uneasy than a simple man with a prospective goal in mind.

“My friend’s had too much to drink,” Miko explained, “and I don’t have the money to pay for more.”

“That’s fine. All I need it three more copper pieces.”

Nova started to complain, but Odin took his arm and managed to pull him away from the bar. The Elf set the coin on the counter and began to lead the pair of them to the stairs.

“Leave me alone.” The much bigger man lunged back, trying to tear Odin’s hand from his shirt. Despite the force, however, Odin managed to hold on. “Let go, Odin.”

“No, Nova,” Miko said. “I don’t mind when you say you want to go back for more alcohol, but I don’t admire you using such language with my squire.”

Before Nova could even begin to say anything more, Miko gripped the back of his shirt and literally began
dragging
him to the top of the stairs and to the end of the hall. Once in the room, Miko cast him across the space with one simple flick of his wrist.

Nova, in his drunken, disoriented state, immediately fell onto the bed. “Come on,” the man said, deciding to switch tactics as he stood and began to make his way back toward the doorway. “I’m sorry for what I said to Odin. Just one more drink, just
one.”

Although he did his best to try and stand, Nova did no more than fall back to his knees each and every time he attempted to. Such a sight was pitiful—akin to a toddler attempting to take its first steps but unable to because his equilibrium was off. That alone was enough to make Odin reach down, hoist his friend up under his arms, then push him back onto the bed.

“Just go to sleep,” Odin said, removing his friend’s shoes with but a few simple tugs before throwing a blanket over his body. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

He expected a reply, but none came. It took but a single tug of the blanket off Nova’s face to find that his friend had fallen asleep.

“He doesn’t need any more alcohol,” Miko grumbled, disrobing. “It’s a poison to the mind and body when abused as he has. Would you close and lock the door, please?”

Odin grabbed the nearby key, slid it into the lock, and turned it. A click later, he set it back in place beside the door.

“I knew a man could get drunk,” Odin said, “but I didn’t know it made him mean.”

“Some men are different,” Miko shrugged. He looked around the room, then slid his cape off. He unfurled it until it was at its full length, then laid it across the floor.

“Here.” Odin grabbed the second pillow off his bed. “I don’t need two.”

“Thank you, Odin.”

After double-checking to make sure that the premises was secure, Odin crossed the short distance between him and the bed and bent to take his boots off. He glanced up at Miko to see him untying his lower robe and turned away on pure instinct.