Tainted Blood Anthology

by Jeff Gunzel

  “You, as well as these other lost souls, shall serve a different purpose,” Orm’rak growled, blood flowing between his fingers. He ripped a substantial piece of flesh from the already dead human’s throat and threw the slippery chunk aside with a wet smack. He licked his sticky fingers, beginning to regret not feeding on this one as well.

  The laberath softly swiped his fingertips across the human’s body. Ribs shimmered visibly beneath the human’s skin, a glittery silver shine. The fresh corpse twitched a few times before opening its eyes, teeth beginning to click like a wooden puppet’s. Fully animated, the dead corpse moaned, hands instinctively reaching out towards nothing.

  Orm’rak took in a deep breath, savoring the lingering sensation that accompanied the act of animating a human corpse. The short-lived taste danced on the tip of his tongue before fading away. Shivering with pleasure, he stepped up to the moaning corpse. “I have granted you the highest of honors,” he whispered, the backs of his fingernails running along the side of the dead man’s face. “You are the first of many created soldiers I shall use to find that bitch, and tear her organs out through her nose one at a time.”

  Orm’rak turned around, his eyes sweeping the virtually endless rows of hanging humans suspended in living death. “The first of many,” he repeated, cackling madly as his laughter echoed throughout the chamber.

  *

  Owen circled his finger in the air, signaling for the party to halt. The area here was reasonably clear and the ground seemed level enough—as good a place as any to stop for the night. As usual, Xavier sprung into action setting up camp while the others gathered wood. It wasn’t long before the bedrolls were laid out, and the warm glow of a soft fire warmed their bones.

  Sitting quietly near the fire, Viola snapped her fingers when she remembered the bag Assirra had stuffed into her leather satchel. After worrying about trying to not fall off her horse all day, she had completely forgotten about it. Dashing over to her satchel, she tugged at the leather strap. When it finally pulled free, she dug around inside, eventually retrieving the second bag.

  The familiar square bulges were a dead giveaway, and she knew it was filled with books before even opening it. “Heirs of the Throne, Enemy of Diplomacy, The King’s Silent Hand,” she read out loud, laying them on the ground one at a time. There were other books in the bag, as well as a dark wig and a small black case, but she set the bag aside for the moment. Curiously, she gazed at the three she had pulled out, wondering why Assirra had been so insistent on giving her these books.

  At some point you must start learning the way of things. Being a stranger in your own world leaves you at a constant disadvantage. The more you learn, the stronger you will become. Assirra’s words echoed in the back of her mind as she ran her fingers along the sturdy spines of the books.

  “And what have here?” asked Liam, startling her when he came up from behind. Instinctively, she leaned across them with her arms spread, as if not wanting him to see. Liam reached down and slid one of the thick books from beneath her arm. “Enemy of Diplomacy,” he read, glancing at her with raised eyebrows. “Interesting choice of literature. Where did you get these?” he asked, suspicious.

  “Assirra gave them to me,” she mumbled, her soft voice quiet as ever. She really wasn’t sure if anyone was supposed to see them, or if Assirra had wanted to keep this a secret. Either way, it didn’t matter now. “They were a gift. Please don’t take them from me!”

  Liam felt a twinge of pain in his heart. Was she so used to having things taken away that she didn’t really believe she was allowed to own anything, especially a gift given to her by a friend?

  “Viola, I would never—” said Liam, swallowing his last words as a lump swelled in his throat. He placed the book back down in front of her. “I just wanted to see them, that’s all. I would never take your books away, or anything else that belonged to you.”

  She smiled gratefully, then began thumbing through the pages.

  “To be honest, I wasn’t even sure you could read,” he admitted. “Given how crazy things have been these last few weeks, the question seemed rather unimportant.”

  “I can,” she replied, happily flipping through the pages. “Ethan taught me.” Her fingers stopped on a page, her expression darkening as her suddenly vacant eyes gazed back into her thoughts. “Perhaps that is the only thing he ever taught me that I am grateful for. I would spend hours upon hours in front of the window, reading. It was my escape from reality, a chance to be swept away to another world. Whether it was only for a minute or an hour, I relished that time before...before—” Her face grew even darker. “Before he would summon me to his bedroom.”

  With red eyes, Liam kneeled down beside her. “I’m so sorry,” was all he could say.

  “Of course, I had no choice,” she continued. “I would fold the page and close the book. It was all right because I knew it would be waiting for me when I came back. I know it sounds stupid, but that kept me going. I really think having something to look forward to kept me from going mad. It was all I had, but it was enough.” In her deep train of thought, she didn’t even realize she was clinging to her book, holding it close to her chest.

  “I understand,” Liam said softly. “Go on and enjoy yourself. I promise you no one is going to take anything away from you.” He rose from his seat with a shiver and went to join the others by the fire. It was easy to forget that Viola was all but immune to the cold, whereas it actually bothered his old bones quite a bit. The rest of the group lay scattered about, roasting strips of meat over the fire. When Liam sat down, Owen passed him a poker with a rather charred piece smoldering on the end of it.

  “Just how ye like it?” asked Owen, the scarred warrior raising his eyebrows in an attempt to look innocent.

  “Um...yes, it’s fine. Thank you,” Liam replied, staring long and hard at the smoking piece.

  “Good,” Owen added quickly. “Cause ye wouldn’t see me crunching on that black lump!”

  Liam glared back at him from the corner of his eye. The others started laughing, prompting Liam to snap the poker like a whip, sending the blackened piece tumbling into the bush behind him. Amused, he joined in the laughter, but was also quite relieved when Thatra handed him a second poker with a more reasonably cooked strip on the end.

  “What’s Viola doing way over there?” asked Thatra, wiping a tear from her eye. “Isn’t she cold? Why doesn’t she come join us by the fire?”

  Liam glanced over his shoulder, seeing that she had indeed moved a bit closer to make use of the extra light, but remained far enough away so as not to be disturbed. She sat with her legs crossed, the book cracked open on her lap.

  “Viola isn’t sensitive to cold,” Liam explained. “So there is no reason to worry about that. As far as what she’s doing over there, apparently Assirra has gifted her a few books to read. I see she’s already enjoying them, although I admit I’m a bit stunned.”

  “Why would you say that?” Xavier asked, glancing at her sitting on the grass. “She seems rather captivated by them, if you ask me.”

  “Precisely my point,” Liam agreed. “Heirs of the Throne, Enemy of Diplomacy, to name a few. I am quite familiar with that literature, and I assure you that no one as young as her should find those dry books interesting. In short, they’re a detailed account of Ayrith’s political systems. Law, monarchy, fundamental rules of engagement, and how the authoritative systems all work together, depending on which region you reside in.”

  “Fun,” mocked Owen, twirling a finger in the air before tearing into another slice of meat.

  “For once we agree,” said Liam, rubbing his chin as he watched her reading intently. Shrugging, he turned back to the fire and continued eating. “But who am I to question anyone’s taste in literature?”

  After finishing their meals in silence Xavier stomped out the fire.

  “How far would ye say the nezzerians’ village is from here?” Owen asked, already crawling beneath his bedroll.

&nb
sp; “Three or four days’ ride, assuming we don’t run into any trouble,” Assirra replied.

  Owen grunted something indecipherable then rolled to his side.

  “Best we all get some rest so we can get an early start,” she suggested.

  Xavier and Liam crawled into their bedrolls, more than ready to call it a night.

  “Viola,” said Liam, watching her strain her eyes in the moonlight, her face only inches from the book. “How can you even see the pages? Enough of that, time to go to sleep.”

  “Just a little long—”

  “No,” he said firmly. “Now go to bed.” Pouting, she closed the book with a hard thump and went to go stash it in the sack with the others. Smiling at her mild but innocent tantrum, Liam simply rolled his eyes and nestled deeper into his bedroll. “She’ll be the death of me,” he whispered to himself before nodding off.

  When sunlight first peeked between the leaves above, Viola was the first to open her eyes. She glanced about to see if anyone else was awake yet. Other than Owen snoring like a bear, the camp was silent. Quietly, she slipped from her bedroll and tiptoed across the crunchy dead grass towards her satchel, trying to make as little noise as possible.

  “Isn’t it a little early for that?” she heard Xavier whisper from across the camp. She grinned, refusing to turn around. She couldn’t help but smile whenever he spoke to her, but she didn’t really want him to see. Nervously, she fiddled with the buckle on her satchel without actually opening it. “I just thought I might read a few pages before we eat,” she said. A gentle breeze on the back of her neck alerted her to Xavier’s presence. She knew he was right behind her. Still not turning around, she bounced nervously on her toes. Her face felt hot again. Why did that always seem to happen when he was near?

  “I have a better idea,” he said softly. There was nothing in this young man’s tender voice to indicate he was such a killer. If she hadn’t seen what he was capable of with her own eyes, she never would have believed it. She could feel the heat from his body, the light puffs of air on the back of her neck with each gentle word.

  “Follow me, I want to show you something,” he said. His fingers twined with hers as he grabbed her hand. She tensed, self-conscious about her own icy touch, a sharp contrast to the heat building up in her face. But if her cold hand bothered Xavier, he showed no indication as he led her away. Using his blade, he cut through the bushes and shrubs, kicking down small stumps in the ground so Viola could follow easily.

  “It doesn’t seem like anyone has been this way in a long time,” Viola remarked, dodging a large leaf as it snapped back past her ear. “Where are we going? What is it you think you saw?”

  “I haven’t seen anything yet,” Xavier admitted, hacking through several branches in the way. “But can’t you smell that?”

  Viola sniffed the air, taking in the sweet, pollen-like fragrance. “Flowers?” she asked, a little surprised she hadn’t noticed it earlier.

  “Not exactly,” Xavier replied. “But the scent is so strong now that I can tell we’re getting close.” Due to the density of the forest and the time it took to hack down the brush, they really hadn’t gone all that far. With a final whack, he took down one last protruding branch before leading Viola into a small clearing. Stepping around from behind him, she gasped, mouth hanging wide open.

  “This is what I wanted you to see,” he whispered.

  There stood by far the most exotic-looking plants Viola had ever seen. Each bloom resembled a transparent jellyfish, seeming to hover in the air with long tentacles waving about. Clear liquid trickled off the highest one, splashing down before flowing onto the others in a constant flowing waterfall. The strange plants moved in unison, each wiggling as the never-ending supply of water seemed to flow forever, sounding much like a babbling brook. The air smelled so sweet that it made Viola think of flowers and fruit.

  “It’s beautiful,” she gasped, barely able to speak.

  “There’s more,” said Xavier, reaching inside his inner pocket. He pulled out a small device that looked to be several small bamboo shoots strung together. He brought the crude little instrument up to his lips and blew lightly, producing a single drawn-out note. Reacting to the tone, the clear pods leaned to the right as the flowing water took on a fluorescent, bluish hue. Their flowing tentacles danced and waved about as if they were enjoying the sound.

  Viola squealed with delight, then quickly clasped a hand over her mouth, concerned she might disrupt the magic with her voice. Xavier blew on a second pipe, producing a higher-pitched sound. The clear mushroom caps quivered briefly before leaning to the left, the flowing water now changing to a light yellow color. Even the air smelled different, changing from a flowery scent to a tangy, lemony fragrance.

  Spellbound, Viola couldn’t say a word. Never had she seen anything like it. “They’re called lartrous vines,” Xavier explained. “I knew they were nearby because I could smell them. In a way, they’re no different than most living things in the way they respond to music. What do you think? Are you glad we came to see—” When he turned to look at Viola, he was silenced by her stare. Biting her lower lip, she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him. “Viola?” he said softly, gazing back into her eyes.

  “Yes,” she whispered, her lips moving closer to his as she rose up on her toes. Even she didn’t know what was coming over her, only that she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his. Those blue eyes were pulling her in, and she was powerless against it. “Thank you for… Thank you for taking me to see— I-I…” Her whispers came out as mindless babble. Their eyes locked as their lips hovered, nearly touching.

  “Hey, where are you two?” came Owen’s call. With a jump, they each leapt back from one another, hearts racing, breathless as if they’d been running for an hour.

  “Right here.”

  “We’re fine.”

  “Everything’s fine.”

  “We were just...yeah,” they babbled over one another, cringing with each painful attempt at making any kind of sense. Owen stepped into view, scratching his head. His eyes bounced back and forth between them.

  “Um...sure,” he grumbled. “I just wanted to let ye know we’re planning to get an early start. If ye want something to eat, better get moving. Ye two know we can’t stay in one place for too long.” Head bobbing nervously, Viola quickly skittered past him. But when Xavier tried to move past, Owen snatched him by the arm. Xavier glanced down at the arm, then up at the hunter. “Don’t even think about it,” Owen warned.

  “Don’t think about what?” Xavier asked, swallowing hard.

  “Are ye going to play games with me, boy?” Owen asked, his expression telling his apprentice all he needed to know. “Our job is to keep that girl safe and nothing else. If yer fixing for some action, the next time we get to a town, the whores are on me. But this thing here,” he waved a finger back towards camp, “it can’t happen. Have I made myself clear?”

  “Not everyone thinks the way you do,” said Xavier, ripping his arm free of Owen’s grip. “Viola is a real person with a tender heart. Sure, why would anyone be drawn to those qualities when they could fetch a perfectly fine whore?” He started back towards camp, but then stopped to speak back over his shoulder. “I am loyal to you, Owen. Do not ever doubt that. But my life is my own, and I will live it as I see fit. Do not doubt that either.” He turned and headed back to camp.

  Owen contemplated a moment, then shrugged with a click of his tongue. “Then I hope ye know what yer doing,” he muttered before following.

  Later on, the four of them ate in silence by the fire. Strips of jerky and dry, crumbly biscuits got passed around while Viola and Xavier did everything they could to not make eye contact. Owen and Liam shared a knowing grin before continuing their rather plain breakfast.

  Totally oblivious to the humans’ strange tension, Thatra ate happily, as if the simple food were perfect for a game. Breaking off bits of biscuit, she threw the pieces into the air, then tried to catch them in her mouth. After
multiple failed attempts, she stopped her game when it became obvious the birds were going to eat better than she.

  After breakfast, they packed up the camp and headed out. The journey was slow going. Owen’s lavics ambled along, crushing down thick vegetation and even small trees while the others followed in the wide path left behind. Viola didn’t mind the slow travel. For one, her horse was much easier to handle at this slow pace. But even better, she discovered she could easily read with her open book balanced against the horse’s mane.

  The path made by the lavics was so wide that Xavier was able to ride next to Viola. But seeing that she was quite engrossed in her book, he remained silent throughout most of the journey. They never stopped to eat, instead snacking on handfuls of raisins and nuts from sacks. Prepared food wasn’t going to be much better, so stopping to make a fire while losing that much time didn’t seem to make any sense.

  But once the sun hung low and it was time to rest, all were more than grateful to put their feet back on solid ground. Not used to riding, particularly for such a long amount of time, Viola found herself hobbling around, her backside feeling quite tender. How does anyone do this for a whole day? Gingerly, she lowered herself to the ground, sitting cross-legged with her book open on her lap.

  “Is that all she’s going to do until we reach the nezzerian village?” asked Thatra, glaring at Viola from a distance.

  “And what should she be doing?” Liam asked, lowering his staff into the small pile of wood Xavier had collected. The eyes of the goat-head staff flared for an instant as black smoke came rolling up in rings. “I think it’s perfectly healthy for her to bury her mind in a book instead of worrying about problems she has no control of. I’m glad she’s found an escape.”

  “Escape?” Thatra repeated, her milky, white eyes narrowing with irritation. “Her constant denial of her predicament is not an escape. She is being hunted. That is fact, and not a thing to be ignored. As long as her life is in danger, ours will be as well. That too is fact.”