Tides of Blood and Steel (14 page)

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Authors: Christian Warren Freed

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Coming of Age, #Epic, #Paranormal & Urban, #Sword & Sorcery, #Arthurian, #Teen & Young Adult

BOOK: Tides of Blood and Steel
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“Encouraging, isn’t it?”

“Give me a straight answer.”

Anienam let out a steady breath. “The future is hidden. I would say there is a very real possibility that we are overmatched.”

The words were a hammer stroke. Bahr felt as if a thunderstorm had broken across the horizon, leaving him helpless. “Then we go to our doom.”

It was Anienam’s turn to be irritated. “Keep that opinion to yourself. We do not know what tomorrow holds. Our future is still in our hands so long as we keep faith.”

“Faith is a difficult concept to maintain when you whisper of death,” he protested.

“Ha! When did you start listening to me?”

Bahr had to smile at that. Anienam was a crazy old man, about as cracked as Bahr’s own father had been. It made this whole affair both easier and more difficult. Bahr waggled an accusing finger. “You are the one who got me into this mess in the first place. Listening to you took us down this dark road. Now if you don’t mind telling me, what do we do when we get this hammer of yours?”

“If I knew that the task would be much easier.”

Damnation, Bahr growled.
We truly are in trouble
.

Dorl Theed glanced at the two bickering old men and shook his head.

“What do you suppose they are squabbling about this time?” he asked.

Nothol didn’t bother to look. “Who knows? Both of them should be on a front porch watching the grass grow.”

“Doesn’t really say much about us, following them all over the world.”

“We are getting paid for it.”

Dorl gave his friend a sharp look. “I haven’t been paid yet. The job we were hired to do ended with us in a dungeon and being tortured. All we are doing now is running for our lives.”

“Bahr is not responsible for that. We didn’t know the girl was his niece until it was too late to do anything about it,” Nothol reminded. “He will do us right.”

“I will keep my doubts about that.”

Nothol wasn’t in the mood to argue. And, quite frankly, he was tired of Dorl’s darkening attitude. The man was slowly breaking down. That change began in Harnin’s dungeon. It was by far the worst experience either had ever been through. Nothol had been able to put it behind him, Dorl couldn’t. It was the fact he didn’t know how to help his friend that hurt the most.

“We are still alive. That is all I can ask for.”

Dorl disagreed. “For now.”

Nothol finally snapped. “Enough already! You have been wallowing in self-pity and misery since we escaped. Get over it. It happened and is already behind us. Your mood is starting to turn cancerous.”

Anger flashed. “You’re a real son of a bitch sometimes.”

Nothol Coll actually smiled. “Thank you. Stop trying to change the subject, Dorl. We need you back to form.”

He skillfully avoided the budding relationship between Dorl and Rekka. That in itself was strange, though not entirely unexpected. The two seemed to have an instant connection from the moment she boarded the
Dragon’s Bane
. Nothol tried to rationalize that it was the stress of the situation and the intensity of their task that forced the pair together. It was weak at best, but he didn’t want to think any more on it. The lucky bastard.

“Do you see what Ionascu has become?” Dorl asked quietly.

“Yes,” Nothol replied.

“He scares me. Not what he is, but how he became it.”

“I don’t understand.”

Dorl shrugged. “He scares me because I can see myself slipping into the same role. I have hate in my heart, Nothol. I want to kill Harnin. I want to destroy everything he stands for. I am afraid. Afraid I might lose me and become like Ionascu.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Nothol reassured.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I will beat you within an inch of your life first,” he laughed.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Nothol shook his head now. “No. Besides, you’d probably go running to your girlfriend to help you.”

His cheeks flushed. “You know about that?”

“I think Bahr might be the only one who doesn’t.”

Dorl was at a loss for words. He still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened between him and Rekka. He’d been tired and trying to go to sleep when she slipped under the warmth of his blanket. He certainly enjoyed the experience, but he still wanted to know why. Making love to the strange southern woman might well have been the greatest moment in his relatively young life, especially considering the fact she had ignored every advance he had made on her beforehand.

“Look, I…” he began.

Nothol held up his hands. “You don’t need to explain anything to me. I’m your friend, not your father.”

Dorl smiled warmly. “Thank you.”

“You could tell a friend how good she was,” Nothol said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“I think it would be safer if I didn’t,” Dorl replied. “For the both of us.”

Both men laughed. It was a much needed break from their desperate reality. Dorl idly wondered if that was what had happened last night. She might have seen the depth of his building despair and acted. The idea was absurd, but he liked it and decided to stick with it until she admitted otherwise.

Nothol continued, his voice lower so as not to be overheard. “Do me one small favor though. Try not to make so much noise the next time. Some of us need our sleep.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

Rekka Jel listened to them from the front of the wagon. Her face remained impassive despite the potential embarrassment. Her actions were for reasons only she would ever know. Perhaps it had been a onetime thing, perhaps not. Time would tell. The wagon rolled on.

 

TWELVE

Praeg

Praeg was a tiny village of no real importance. Planners once tried to build it up and make it a rival to mighty Chadra in the west. The idea never took off. People had no interest in living in the middle of nowhere. Then the second class, undesirable citizens, arrived. Most sought escape from the attention of the authorities. Cutthroats and criminals, the majority of the village, were the sort to stay away from. Bahr could care less. Praeg was far from a natural water source and in a borderland area that no one wanted to claim.

“Bahr, are you certain we need to stop here?” Dorl asked. “There are other villages along the way, ones where we won’t draw attention or have to deal with major issues.”

“Have you seen our merry group of travelers? We don’t exactly blend in,” Nothol leaned over and whispered.

Bahr wasn’t amused. “No. This is the one place Harnin won’t dare send his troops. Not unless he wants to send enough to pacify it.”

“It is also the place he’ll think to look first. His spies might already be here.”

“That may be, but you and I both know what type of village this is. Harnin’s spies won’t get far.”

Skuld’s concerns overrode his caution. “Where are we going?”

“To Praeg, boy. A one-road village where your darkest dreams’ deepest desires can come true,” Bahr said matter-of-factly.

Dorl cocked his head at the embellishment. “Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic for him?”

The Sea Wolf cracked a grin. “Nonsense. Those are the same words my father told me when I was but a lad.”

“Maybe it has changed since then,” Skuld offered hopefully. He was almost at the breaking point as far as adventures were concerned.

“No,” Bahr answered. “This is the kind of village where you mind yourself and don’t ask questions. All of the scum from civilized parts come here. We don’t want trouble here, not now leastwise.”

Boen let out a bellowing laugh. “This sounds like my kind of place!”

Dorl looked at Nothol and said, “This is madness. It’s like a race to see who is going crazy first.”

“We might as well get it over with then,” Nothol replied.

“Boen and I will take care of everything. The rest of you stay out of sight. The last thing we need is more trouble,” Bahr told them all.

Only Ionascu and Anienam didn’t seem to mind. One had already seen too many horrors and the other wasn’t interested in anything but that damned book. That was fine with Bahr. He felt like more of a caretaker than a grown man. His heart longed for the days when he was alone again. Life was more peaceful that way. Still, he had a good group assembled and they offered his best chance of success at stopping his brother. He noticed Maleela’s burning glare and cringed inwardly at the similarity between her and Badron.

“Not this time, Niece,” he said and stood his ground.

Not the words she wanted to hear. “No, Uncle. I am a princess of Delranan. I will not hide in the shadows while my friends earn their keep. I want to be a part of this.”

“This is exactly the type of place where you want to hide,” Bahr reasoned. “All of our lives would be forfeit if even one person discovered your truth.”

“He’s right, girl. You’d be captured and us killed without a second thought,” Boen added a little less gruffly.

Flames threatened to burst from her eyes. Her face twisted in silent rage. Boen was almost impressed. She was a good kid but had much to learn if she planned on rising above her father’s legacy.

“I am a princess and expect to be treated as such!” she fumed.

Boen walked his horse closer to the wagon. His tone of voice left no room for doubt as to his intentions. “You are about to be slung over my knee and spanked like the brat you are acting like. You want to be a princess? Fine, be one. But you had damned sure better watch your tone when you speak with me.”

He circled away, neither caring nor concerning himself with her reactions. Boen felt a twinge of remorse at having spoken his mind, but he saw no other way around it. Regardless of what she did next, time was against her. Even Bahr was forced to close his now gaping mouth. He hadn’t expected the uncharacteristic outburst. He suddenly found himself liking the Gaimosian that much more.

“Maleela, this is not the nice world you grew up in.” His winced at the choice of words but drove on. “The men and women in Praeg would like nothing better than to get their hands on you. They’d kill us outright and do terrible things to you. We just got you. I am not willing to lose you so soon.”

She softened her stance, if only just. Maleela swallowed her pride, but lacked the maturity required of her station. She recognized this despite the fact it did not assuage the mental storm consuming her. When she spoke, her words were careful, measured. “Uncle, all of you, I truly thank you for all you have done for me. You have all risked so much just for me and I can never repay that. But I am just as much a part of this as you are. We all have obligations to each other. I want to feel like I am making a contribution.”

“Ah lass, you remind me so much of your mother,” Bahr said lovingly. “You are a part of this and I welcome your help. My decision stands though. Praeg is not a friendly place. You’ll be in plenty of danger just sitting in the tavern room waiting for us to return.”

“We are wasting time and I am getting hungry,” Boen growled.

“You think with your stomach too much.”

He shrugged. “I am a big man.”

At six feet tall and nearly three hundred pounds of solidly packed muscle, Boen was one of the most formidable men Bahr had ever known.

“Wizard, have you got anything insightful to add?” Bahr asked.

He didn’t.
Of course he doesn’t.

The Sea Wolf ignored the old man and led the small band down the gently sloping hill towards Praeg. He dreaded coming back here. The last time had almost done him in. At least now he had a well-armed group of proven men highly capable of dealing with whatever new dangers lay in wait. The low level thatch roofs came into sight, forcing Bahr to shrug off a disturbing feeling.

The village was nothing special. A single road split Praeg down the middle. Two score of houses and shops lined the avenue. All were run down and poorly kept. Praeg lacked most of the amenities of a proper village. A handful of wells, built from crudely cut stone, dotted the plain. Most of the buildings were completed with mud instead of
mortar. There was a decided lack of quality in the construction. They all appeared crooked, ready to collapse in on themselves with a stiff wind. Grey smoke pushed out of the chimneys and turned the sky a foul color neither black nor white. The smell of burning wood drifted their way.

The people here wore furs and leathers from tanned deer hides. All of the men had thick, unkempt beards and the women all bore a hard, weathered glare. Even the children had a hardened edge. Skuld took it all in with disgust. He would not have lived long had he been born here instead of Chadra. Stray dogs snapped and growled at the group the closer they got to the town center. A dead smell hovered over the ground, a cross between human waste and rot. Maleela gagged from behind the heavy hood and cloak wore to conceal her identity

“This is as good as it will get,” Boen cautioned. “Remember not to make eye contact and do not speak to anyone. That goes for all of you.”

He led the way into the village, past the gawking leers and condescending looks from windows and doorways. Every single person in Praeg was armed and looking for a fight. Most flinched as Boen rode by. His size kept them from acting foolishly. Soon, but not soon enough for most of them, the wagon pulled in front of the sole tavern.

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