Whisper of Blood

by James Dale

  Messengers were quickly dispatched to the villages nearby and the next day their Council of Elders came to see this man. Braedan repeated his story for them, as did Tarsus and Tereil, and soon they were also persuaded. The following day, when those men spread the word to the villages neighboring theirs Ljmarn Bra'Adan’s heir had returned, it seemed everyone within one hundred miles suddenly appeared, each one of them was clamoring to hear this amazing tale and see the claimant to the High King's long vacant throne.

  When sundown came and the crowds were still arriving, Tereil decided enough was enough. "He is not some curiosity to be gawked at!" the old man shouted, chasing the throngs away from his doorstep. "He will not spend the rest of his days justifying his claim to every doubter who comes calling!"

  But Tereil did not send them away empty handed. He gathered all the visiting Elders together and instructed them to spread the word that in two weeks’ time, there would be a tournament held on the plains outside the ruins of Tanaevar to select the one hundred warriors who would make up the new Galekindar. Before the tournament began, he would recount again the claim of Jack Braedan. Afterwards, if any still doubted, they could return to the hills and their hopelessness and live out the rest of their lives as their fathers and grandfathers had done before them. Those who knelt before the High King and pledged fealty to him could enter a new age and begin the rebuilding of Amar. Rebuked by Tereil but still jubilant, they returned to their villages and began to make preparation for the long journey to the plains outside Tanaevar.

  The people of Tereil's village also made ready to travel. The women began smoking meats and gathering other foodstuffs for the journey, while many of the men started sewing together animal hides and felling saplings for the tents they would live in while away from their homes. The rest of the men not otherwise occupied were gathered up by Jarrol the Blacksmith and began making hurried repairs on the few wagons the villagers possessed. The children, though not fully understanding what was taking place around them, sensed something momentous on the horizon and much to the surprise of their parents, managed to stay out from underfoot and actually helped out a bit here and there.

  The young men of the village were the ones truly overjoyed by the stunning announcement. For as long as they could remember, they'd spent evenings by the hearth at their father's feet listening to the heroic deeds of the famous Galekindar. Now here was the moment they had long dreamed would come, a chance to write for themselves a new chapter in the history of those great knights, to join the songs and legends and become a Son of the Storm. They took down swords from above mantels and sharpened them until they were like razors and polished their shields until they sparkled like the sun reflecting off a still forest pool, each of them confident they would surely be one of the hundred chosen to be the new Galekindar.

  Despite all the hurried preparations, the villagers still somehow found time to shower Jack with numerous gifts and favors. Embarrassed by all the sudden attention, he sought to escape their adulation and expressions of homage by mounting Eaudreuil and riding out of the village, spending most of the next week wandering the thickly wooded hills surrounding their valley. But even this wasn't enough to escape entirely, for Tarsus always went with him on these trips.

  The Amarian told Jack he came along only to provide him with conversation and companionship, but that was only partly true. He also had other reasons for accompanying his friend. Tarsus was not about to let the future High King of Aralon wander around alone and unprotected through rugged hills and valleys where anything might happen to him, no matter how much Jack argued he could take care of himself. Not when his friend was responsible for single-handedly restoring hope to a hopeless people and reawakening dreams which had lain covered in ashes for over eight hundred years. Tarsus' included.

  Today however, Braedan was alone. Tarsus had been forced to reluctantly let him go out unescorted. It was the day before they would begin their journey to the ruins of Tanaevar and many things called for his attention. Though the Amarian argued against it, Jack went out by himself with only Eaudreuil for company. The two spent the morning riding on the high ridge above the village and when noon approached, stopped to rest where the stream tumbled noisily over the cliff. Here the entire valley lay stretched out in panoramic splendor two hundred feet below. It was Jack's favorite spot.

  He dismounted and retrieved the lunch he had prepared earlier that morning from his saddle bags, then sat down on a large boulder to eat. Eaudreuil wandered off in search of a grassy spot on the ridge and his own dinner, leaving his human companion alone. After he'd finished the bread and cheese, Jack slid down off his perch and went to lay down in a spot of sunlight to rest.

  Although he used these trips into the hills to escape all the embarrassing bowing and kneeling and m'Lords and highness' the villagers seemed so anxious to bestow on him, what he really did on these solitary rides was think. He had now come to accept he was a direct descendant of Ljmarn, and once his claim was acknowledged by the king of the Whesguard Alliance and he had drawn Ljmarn's ancient sword, he would be the High King of Aralon. But he still had little idea of what that title entailed.

  During the Elohara, Ljmarn had revealed that his task was to take up Yhswyndyr and defeat the dark King Graith. He had instructed Braedan to follow his heart and had shown him four cryptic visions. Although the first and last of those dreams had apparently been deciphered by Tarsus and Tereil, Jack was still maddenly confused by it all. Though both Amarians assured him there would be little opposition come spring when he rode into Immer with one hundred Galekindar at his back, won the Competition of the Sword, then revealed to the world he was the long-lost descendant of the High King, he did not share their confidence.

  During the last week Braedan had become convinced this was not enough. Ljmarn had told him to follow his heart and his heart told him he should still do as he originally planned. That was go to Brythond to find the book of prophecies written by Aaracus the Pure. Braedan was sure the ancient volume held answers he desperately needed. His heart also told him time was rapidly growing short, and he should not winter here in the village as Tarsus wanted to do, but continue on to Brythond after the tournament to select the Galekindar. Tarsus wasn't going to like this decision but now that his mind was set, he vowed not to let his friend dissuade him.

  "It’s decided then," Jack sighed. "I'm going to Brythond. The quicker the better." As soon as he voiced his commitment aloud, he felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He closed his eyes in satisfaction, deciding he deserved a short nap before breaking the news to Tarsus. He would need all his strength to stand up to the stubborn Amarian. He was just on the verge of drifting off to sleep when Eaudreuil nuzzled his neck, startling him.

  Braedan reached up absentmindedly and scratched the animal between its ears. "What do you want? Can't you see I'm sleeping?"

  "Someone is coming," the Val'anna answered.

  "Who?" Jack asked sitting.

  The stallion lifted his head and sniffed the breeze. "The filly with the dark mane.”

  Since that fateful morning when he'd awakened with his unusual gift, he'd always speculated that given enough exposure to an animal of superior intelligence, he would eventually be capable of deciphering the jumble of emotions and thoughts into coherent communication. Yet he never dreamed it could be like this. The Elohara had not only shown him visions of but had also apparently launched his…gift…into overdrive. He’d awakened from the Spirit Walk to find projecting his own thoughts and emotions to Eaudreuil, and understanding the Val’anna, was as easy as carrying on a converstion with an old friend.

  They weren't actually...talking...it could more aptly be described as disassembling then reassembling each other’s thoughts and emotions into...pictures, that could be understood by the other. In many ways, it was better than talking. There was no searching for the right words. You just thought, and the recipient's own mind did the rest. It was working so well Braedan rarely had to ca
ll or whistle for the horse anymore, he simply appeared whenever he was needed. It was also no longer necessary for him to give the Val'anna directions while he was riding, the horse just knew where he wanted to go and went there. He had lately ceased to think of him as an animal at all. Eaudreuil had become a part of him. In fact, the Val'anna had given Jack a new name. Horse brother.

  He had also recently discovered the animal possessed a mischievous sense of humor. When it suited him, Eaudreuil could be infuriatingly vague. "Which filly?" Jack sighed. "They all have dark manes around here."

  "The young one who desires you to mount her," Eaudreuil replied. Deciphering that image was distinctly uncomfortable.

  "Teala?" Jack groaned. He'd known all along it would be her.

  "Shall I leave you two alone?" the roan asked. Eaudreuil snorted loudly and shook his mighty head. Only Jack could have interpreted the outburst as laughter.

  "Yeah, you'd better beat it," Jack replied, standing and slapping the horse on its haunch. "I don't need any of your smart-ass comments while she's here. But don't wander off too far. I might need you to rescue me."

  Eaudreuil snorted again and trotted off to a discreet distance about fifty yards away. A few seconds later Braedan could make out the young woman's form as she made her way along the ridge.

  Teala was the main reason Braedan had out sought the refuge of the hills this past week. The girl had been taken with him the day he and Tarsus had ridden into the village, and had definitely let him know it that night at the celebration. But that dance had been prim and chaste when compared to her efforts to seduce him after Tereil had announced to the village he was Ljmarn Bra'Adan’s heir. When she had heard the stranger, who'd arrived with Tarsus was or would soon be the High King of Aralon, she had become even more determined to win him.

  Jack really couldn't blame the girl. He supposed in her eyes he now seemed to be quiet a catch. He imagined Teala thought if she could only land him, she would obviously become the High Queen. Then it would be no more stone and timber huts for her, but ivory palaces. She would have pearls and silks to wear instead of deer skins and worthless bits of quartz. She could leave behind these cold, barren hills and live the rest of her life in the splendor of the imperial city of Immer.

  As she drew closer, Jack wondered suddenly why he continued to reject her advances. She certainly was pretty enough. With that figure, her raven black hair and those smoky gray eyes, she was beautiful. It wasn't because he thought she was only after riches and a faraway throne. She had been attracted to him before any of that was known. She certainly didn't seem to mind he was...a few years older.

  What would be the harm in taking the treasure she offered, and promising to make her queen of the world after he had claimed Yhswyndyr and the dark King was laid low? After the tournament at Tanaevar, he was leaving these hills and heading for Brythond and then Ljmarn Haelfest in the spring. He would most likely never see her again. Hell, chances were soon afterward he would die fighting an eight hundred-year-old demon anyway. She would never have to know how unlikely it was he wouldn't live to ever return for her. What would be the harm?

  "What would be the harm?" a small voice asked in his head. "You are alone. No one would ever know. Why deny yourself? Are you not a man? With needs? She is certainly willing.”

  The small voice in his head was seductively convincing. But the devil…or the Sa’tan of this world, had always been a smooth talker. Braedan didn’t know all that being Ljmarn’s heir entailed, or what would be required of him other than fight the dark King and defeat the Bloodstone, but he was fairly certain bedding a teenage girl for a few moments of pleasure probably wasn’t on the short list of “things to do as the Heir to Yhswyndyr.”

  Braedan steeled himself to hold to that promise as she approached. Teala smiled with pleasure when she saw him.

  It had begun.

  “What are you doing up here, Teala?" he sighed.

  “I was riding to the village to the east to inform their elders we would be leaving for Tanaevar tomorrow,” she smiled. “A snake frightened my pony and I fell. The stupid beast left me.”

  Braedan raised a curious eyebrow. She certainly wasn’t dressed for riding. Most young women of the village wore short tunics of sturdy wool or leathers. Occasionally, when there was heavier work needed doing, such as riding, they wore doe skin breeches, vests with a cotton or wool blouse, and knee-high boots. The latter would certainly be the attire a messenger to another village would be wearing. Teala however, had on neither of those outfits. She was draped in a heavy bear skin cloak that fell to mid-calf and there were soft, leather moccasins on her feet.

  “What are you really doing up here?” he asked, suspiciously.

  "My Lord?" she replied innocently.

  "I saw Rol Aeson's oldest boy ride out this morning. Going east by the way," Jack informed her. "And you aren't dressed for riding. I know it's a little cool today, but it isn't cold enough to wear that heavy coat unless you are...Oh damn. Don't tell me you’re..."

  Teala smiled and the bearskin dropped to the ground. As he had suddenly guessed, she was completely naked underneath. She stepped up quickly and slid her arms around his waist before he could protest, then breathed huskily into his neck. "When I saw my Lord Bra'Adan ride out this morning without Tarsus, I thought he might enjoy some...company."

  "Teala..." Jack began, but she stopped him with a kiss. Her tongue was like something alive as it moved hungrily to find his. It would have been so easy to surrender to her charms. She was young and beautiful and so unmistakably willing. When he opened his eyes however, he was surprised to find it wasn't her face he saw but another's. Jack untangled himself from the young woman's embrace, placed his hands upon her shoulders and gently pushed her away.

  "No Teala," he said softly, but in his mind, he heard the tempting voice again, not so quiet and subtle this time, but forceful and demanding. 'The world is yours to despoil as you wish!' Take the wench!”

  “No!" Jack said, finally recognizing where the temptation originated. Ljmarn had warned him Graith could influence others even from his tomb. The source was either the dark King or the Sa’tan himself.

  "Does my Lord find me so displeasing?" she asked feigning hurt, but running her hands slowly over her body.

  Now it was clear to Braedan that Teala might not being this doing this of her own free will at all! He'd been rebuffing her advances for a week and she hadn't taken the hint. It was time for a different approach. If he hoped to put an end to her...infatuation, be it real or influenced by...Him, he was going to have to be much more forceful. "Dammit Teala! Where's your clothes? And your horse?"

  The young girl was taken aback, startled by his hard tone of voice. "M-my clothes are with the pony," she stammered. "I-I sent him back."

  "Judas Bloody Hell!" Jack swore, more harshly than he'd intended. Frightened by his outburst, Teala suddenly burst into tears and without stopping to retrieve the bearskin cloak, turned and fled along the ridge.

  "Damn," he sighed. "Teala! Come back! I didn't mean to yell at you!"

  She kept on running.

  "Damn!" Jack swore again. He reached down and picked up the cloak, then turned to find Eaudreuil already approaching. "We'd better catch her before she makes it back to the village. If she shows up naked and crying like that, they'll probably hang me, Ljmarn's heir or not."

  "Why did you chase her away?" the stallion asked curiously. "That one will foal many fine colts."

  "None of your business," Braedan replied as he swung up onto the horse's back, but an image formed unbidden in his mind, the face of another beautiful young woman with sea green eyes and hair the color of molten copper. It was the same face he had seen while kissing Teala. The face that may just have saved him. Again.

  "Fire Mane would make a fine mate as well," stallion agreed. "If I were a two-legs, I would have them both in my herd."

  "Oh, would you?" Jack snorted. "I don't think even you could handle that much hell my friend. Come on,
let's go find her before she falls off a cliff or something."

  "The filly is not far," Eaudreuil replied, breaking into a trot in the direction Teala had taken. "She stopped just over the rise."

  Sure enough, the young woman was exactly where the stallion said she would be. She was lying on the ground weeping, but when she heard them approach, Teala scrambled to her feet and began to run again. Jack called after her but she never slowed. Without being told, Eaudreuil put on a burst of speed and passed her. When he wheeled about and cut her off, she stumbled and fell. Jack quickly slid off the horse and rushed to her side.

  "Are you okay?" he asked.

  She nodded her head yes, but didn't look up.

  "Ummm...I'm sorry." Jack said lamely.

  "It's that Doridanian princess, isn't it?" she cried, finally looking at him. "The one who rescued you and Tarsus."

  "Yes," he admitted, finally realizing it had been Annawyn Ellgereth all along who made it so easy for him to banish Graith's thoughts. Braedan suddenly understood now just how much time he spent thinking about the princess; the color of her hair, her sparkling green eyes, her musical voice, that one brief, magical taste of her lips. Life really sucked sometimes. He was hopelessly in love with someone five hundred miles away, while here was another young, beautiful woman who wanted him. The hell of it was, he didn't even know if Annawyn had spared a single thought for him since they'd parted that morning in the fog. She had probably long forgotten him, or if she remembered him at all it was likely as an overly brash pirate who'd had the effrontery to kiss her! A princess of the House of Ellgereth! Just because she'd helped him escape.

  "I'm sorry," Jack sighed.

  "What is she like?" Teala asked, wiping tears from her eyes. "Is she perfumed and soft like a rose petal, all covered in silk and diamonds?"