The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 4 The Blessed Curse (10 page)

“If I had Neph’s power, I would wipe Rivana
from the face of Sanctuary. Nothing would remain of that country.”
Valor’s voice was filled with such loathing that all eyes turned to
him and even the Delvay lord looked mildly shocked.

“You’ve got the roles wrong here, Val. I’m
the bloodthirsty callous bastard. You are the shining honorable
knight. We both can’t be assholes,” Neph said with forced levity
and what might have passed for a smile on his face.

“We need to go, General. Whatever you have to
say to Neph can wait. I will make sure that the matter is settled
later. If it is pressed now, however, …” Madren’s words trailed off
as his gaze flicked to Valor and then back to Troyelle. “Let us all
rest and Valor can focus all of his attentions on finding Jala in
Merrodin. Jail Han’shy is in control of the country right now. I’m
sure once he is back there, everything will be OK. Jail will make
sure Valor gets the help he needs with Jala,” Madren continued with
a bit of emphasis on the last.

Troyelle nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on his
son and then back to Madren. “Lord Goswin, you have shown
unexpected wisdom. I believe we could all use time before we
attempt to settle matters.” Turning, he motioned one of his
remaining guards forward. “See that Lord Goswin has everything he
needs to transport his wounded, then rouse the Merrodin knights and
inform them that they are taking Lord Valor home. See that everyone
is provisioned as they need to be.” The guard nodded sharply and
Troyelle turned his attention to Dominic. “I appreciate your
efforts, but please return to healing now.”

“Yes, Milord,” Dominic agreed with a final
dark look at the Delvay. Turning back, he nodded to Zoelyn and
motioned toward the tent. She pushed the flap aside for him and
turned to follow him inside.

“Wait,” Valor’s voice called from behind and
they both froze in place. Slowly, Zoelyn turned back to regard the
lord and glanced up at Dominic, wondering what he could possibly
want with her Guardian. Slowly, the knight moved forward but his
gaze was on Zoelyn rather than Dominic as she had expected. “You
are the one from the river that Noble was babbling about, aren’t
you. I didn’t notice you standing back here with everything that
was going on.”

Zoelyn frowned and looked from Dominic to
Valor then nodded slowly. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” she
said softly while silently wishing she had just stayed in the tent
rather than let her curiosity get the best of her.

Valor nodded slowly and motioned to the hood
of her coat. “Push it back please. I understand you don’t like
being touched and I promise I won’t come closer.”

Zoelyn froze for a long moment and then
slowly reached up and pushed her hood back. Her long hair fell down
over her face and she brushed it back quickly. It was possible that
she was far enough from the firelight that no one would notice the
strange coloring other than Dominic. He was used to such things,
though. She hadn’t told him exactly what had happened yet, and from
the expression on his face she would have some explaining to
do.

Valor studied her face for a long moment, his
eyes locked on the bruise before he turned back to his father.
“Noble said the village girls threw rocks at her and called her
Undrae
, but she doesn’t look like a monster to me. A
half-starved waif, perhaps, but certainly no monster.” He shook his
head sadly and sighed. “The village girls used to pick on Jala,
too, for being different. You should do something to help this
girl, father, before she gets hurt again or ends up hurting someone
else to defend herself.”

Troyelle watched his son for a moment and
glanced at Zoelyn before locking his deep blue gaze on Dominic.
“Tomorrow, after you are rested we will have a talk about your
Ward. It seems there are things about her that I haven’t been
told.”

“Yes, Milord,” Dominic agreed hesitantly.
Nodding, he motioned back to the tent again and Zoelyn darted
inside.

Swallowing heavily, she pulled her hood up
and gazed up at Dominic in near panic. “What are you going to tell
him about me?” she asked. “The truth, Zoelyn. I have no choice on
that, even if I wished to lie to the man, and I don’t. I live on
his lands and under his protection. He allows me peace and solitude
in return for my loyalty and my healing gift when it is needed.
Troyelle is a rational man, though, so there is a chance he will
understand.” Dominic sighed heavily and rubbed his face.

“What if he doesn’t?” Zoelyn asked quickly,
her eyes searching his face for and answer before he had a chance
to speak.

“Then I abide by his wishes on the matter,”
Dominic replied softly and looked away. “Let’s worry about it when
we have to face it, Zoey.

For now let’s just focus on helping these
people.”

Nodding slowly, Zoelyn turned back to the
wounded and moved absently to gather supplies to help. Her mind
hummed with dread over the coming day. If Dominic explained
everything to Troyelle, even the rational General would think her
Undrae. There were times when even her Guardian looked at her with
fear, though he tried his best to hide it.

* * *

Zoelyn’s heart was in her throat as she
stepped inside the shadowed interior of the commander’s tent. The
only one inside that she actually knew, aside from Dominic, was
Troyelle and that was only from seeing him. She had never actually
talked to the man personally. The others in the tent she knew by
reputation alone. High Lord Elijah Arovan and High Lord Nicoli
Blackwolf sat at the table directly ahead of her, while Sebastian
Blackwolf and the legendary bard, Blue Bess, stood behind them. As
if their presence alone wasn’t intimidating enough, all of them
aside from the bard wore expressions that suggested they would
rather be anywhere else.

“This is your Ward?” Lord Arovan began in a
low voice. His gaze flicked toward Dominic and then to her.

“It is, High Lord. Her name is Zoelyn,”
Dominic answered without hesitation.

“Step forward, girl,” Lord Blackwolf
commanded in a voice that would put seasoned warriors on edge. His
gold eyes watched her and she could see loathing in his eyes as she
hastily moved forward and bowed her head to him. “Remove your
coat,” Blackwolf ordered once she had obeyed his first command.

Zoelyn hesitated and glanced to her side at
Dominic, hoping by some miracle he would save her. She hated
shedding her coat. It was like her armor from the outside world.
With it on no one could see how truly different she was.

“Do as he says, Zoey,” Dominic urged quietly,
giving her a nod of encouragement that didn’t encourage her at
all.

Reluctantly, she shrugged out of the heavy
leather and folded it over one of her thin arms. Her hair had lost
the color from the night before and hung in white tendrils around
her shoulders. Her skin, as always, was a pale grey and she knew
she was far thinner than most considered attractive. The village
girls called her
corpse
when they thought she was out of
range of hearing, and sadly it was the most appropriate description
for her that she had heard. She did resemble the walking dead and
it was not a fact she was proud of.

“Do you feed her at all, Dominic?” Troyelle
asked sharply from behind them. The General stepped forward
quickly, his gaze locked on her and she hastily stepped back from
him, ducking her head. He had the same expression on his face that
everyone aside from Dominic had when she removed her coat. It was a
look of disgust and pity in equal parts and she hated it.

“He feeds me well, Lord General,” Zoelyn
offered in her typical quiet voice.

“She never gains weight, Milord. She was
sickly when I found her, if you recall,” Dominic said in a weary
voice. “Because of her condition, I cannot heal her, though I have
tried.”

“How exactly would you describe her
condition?” Lord Blackwolf asked loudly, and Zoelyn flinched from
the sound. It wasn’t that the man scared her; it was the hatred in
his voice. She knew without a shadow of doubt that he already
considered her a monster and nothing she said could change the
fact. He was a Shifter, after all, and they were essentially druids
in their mind set. Nature was above all in their culture, and she
was quite unnatural.

“Father, you are scaring her,” Sebastian
chided gently, though she could see the revulsion in his eyes, too,
despite his attempt at kindness.

“I am not scaring that creature,” Lord
Blackwolf snapped and raised his eyebrow at Dominic. “Well? How
would you describe her condition?” he repeated.

“She seems to be a rather strong siphon, Lord
Blackwolf,” Dominic began slowly and let out a long sigh. He
glanced at Zoelyn and she could see the sorrow on his face. He was
about to shed all of her secrets to these strangers. “There is
nothing magical or living that is safe from her powers when she
doesn’t have herself covered with the special clothing I’ve made
for her. She absorbs the essence of life from creatures as well as
any magic cast upon her.”

Zoelyn watched Dominic, her heart racing.
Way to throw me under the wagon, Dominic. Don’t pull any
punches, by all means
. She kept the thought silent, but she was
sure it showed on her expression and Lord Blackwolf was watching
her every move.

“She is very careful about her powers,
though, Milord. She takes such precautions to avoid contact with
anything she might injure or damage,” Dominic finished, his gaze
moving to General Troyelle with the final words.

“Such as at the river yesterday. Tell me,
Dominic, what would have happened had she fallen toward the young
man, rather than away?” Lord Blackwolf’s eyes narrowed as he spoke,
as if daring Dominic to lie to him.

“Then I would have likely broken my nose on
the rocks because I wouldn’t have dared risk touching him with my
hand and I wouldn’t have allowed him to catch me even if it meant
splitting my own skull open in the fall,” Zoelyn answered before
Dominic could gather his words.

“I was not speaking to you,” Lord Blackwolf
growled his gaze moving to her.

“I, however, appreciate her answer,” Lord
Arovan broke in and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table.
“Do you drain everything, Zoey?” He paused and frowned, glancing at
Dominic then back to her. “Zoelyn or Zoey? Which name do you
prefer, child?”

“Either is fine, Milord Arovan,” Zoelyn
began, bowing her head with respect and gratitude to the High Lord.
While both he and Blackwolf were of equal rank among the Elder
Blood, they were in Arovan which meant his word was law here and no
matter how badly Lord Blackwolf may want to speak, he didn’t dare
interrupt the High Lord of Arovan. “I drain anything of magic,
Milord, from items to spells. I drain the life from creatures,
though I do not know how large of creatures I affect. Aside from
the fish yesterday the only accident I have had previously was a
kitten, and I assure you that was a bitter lesson that I will never
forget. I avoid touching things that I know I will hurt. I hate it
when I damage even the smallest plant,” Zoelyn explained and
lowered her head once more. It was possible that she had just used
more words in that single breath that she had spoken in the last
week. Lord Arovan seemed genuinely interested, however, and it gave
her a bit of hope that she might possibly avoid exile.

“General Troyelle, bring in Amlon,” Lord
Blackwolf ordered and Zoey watched in suspicion as the General
quickly left the tent.

“What do you have in mind, Nicoli?” Lord
Arovan asked softly.

“I know what she is. I intend to show you as
well,” Nicoli Blackwolf replied quietly in a voice as cold as
winter. “What is she, Father?” Sebastian asked curiously.

“I’d actually like that answer as well.”
Zoelyn added her own voice and forced herself to remain in place as
Lord Blackwolf glared at her.

“She is the reason we have the word
Undrae
in our language. She is a creature I had hoped was
extinct. There is nothing more unnatural than this thing before us,
Elijah, and I urge you to end it here,” Lord Blackwolf answered
softly.

“End it? You mean kill her?” Dominic gasped,
his eyes widening. “Lord Arovan, please the child is innocent. She
does no wrong, and I swear to you she keeps her powers closely
guarded so that she doesn’t harm so much as a blade of grass.”

Before the High Lord of Arovan could respond,
the tent flap opened once more and General Troyelle pushed a
manacled young man before the High Lords. The man was filthy and
dressed in the Rivasan colors of red and yellow. His blond hair was
matted with blood and his eyes were wild as he searched the faces
in the tent for a sign of what was to become of him.

“Amlon, you are convicted of treason and
aiding the enemy of our land. You are native of Glis, and yet you
have betrayed your countrymen by leading the Rivasan forces through
Arovan. If not for you, Micah Arovan and Honor Hai’dia might still
live. You have been sentenced to death, but you plead that you are
innocent. Because of this, I give you another option.” Nicoli
smiled coldly at the man as he slowly turned to look at Zoelyn.
“The girl possesses unusual magic. Simply touch her so that we may
learn the truth and you may win your freedom.”

Zoelyn stepped back quickly and shook her
head at the prisoner. “He lies,” she hissed, her eyes widening.

“To insult a High Lord in that fashion is a
grave offense, child,” Lord Blackwolf scolded, shaking his head in
disapproval at her, though his serpent-like smile never faded. “If
you are innocent you have nothing to fear, Amlon,” the high lord
pressed and waved a hand in her direction.

Amlon looked between the High Lord and Zoelyn
and then back, his eyes still wide with panic. “All I have to do is
touch her?” he asked in a hesitant voice.