Tainted Blood Anthology

by Jeff Gunzel

  “Give us the room,” Bella said softly. Like Rishima, her words carried an air of command that left no room for second-guessing.

  Jarlen sneered, but turned to leave as a ring of armed spiritists converged, surrounding him with readied spears. When he reached the doorway, he stopped, bracing his hands against the frame. “If you decide I am of no use to you, I’ll be executed, correct?”

  “Yes,” Bella said without the slightest hesitation.

  Not bothering to turn around, again Jarlen threw back his head with a chuckle. “In that case, I take comfort in the knowledge that my death will be far more merciful than yours.” After a push to get him moving, the spiritists led him away.

  “Do you see any other way?” Bella asked, getting right to the point.

  “If I saw any other way, I wouldn’t have brought him here,” Liam answered.

  “I was asking Viola.”

  Viola stared at the far wall, her glare fixed on something a million miles away. There were only two things driving her these days: her duty to save the realm from the ghatins, and her desire to seek revenge against her brother. As different as they were, these two desires had suddenly become a conflict of interests. It was eating away at her insides like acid.

  “I just don’t see any way we can trust him,” Bella said. “Even if we joined our forces, he would betray us the moment he got the chance.”

  “Of course he will,” Viola reasoned. “And that is why we must use him, exactly the same way he plans to use us.” Her eyes were focused now, and it appeared as if she had come to her decision. “As long he believes our interests are aligned, he will remain an obedient dog. He is wild and savage, but has a survival instinct that cannot be ignored. As long he is fighting for his own life, he will do what is necessary. This, he has proven time and time again.”

  “And what happens to him when he no longer serves a purpose to us?” Liam asked.

  “What happens to any tool when it no longer serves its purpose?” Viola replied. The room fell silent.

  “Hamas, what do you think—” Rishima began, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  *

  Even while surrounded by spears, Jarlen could not take his eyes off the little old man who had followed him from the room. With a soft smile, Hamas just stood there staring up at the killer. The little human posed no threat whatsoever, yet he made Jarlen uneasy for some reason. Perhaps it was his complete lack of fear in the presence of someone who could crush him ten times before taking a full breath.

  “Is there something I can do for you?” Jarlen asked, rolling his eyes. “I can see you’re either senile or insane, but perhaps you should go back before the other humans realize you’re missing. No doubt they’ll blame me for this as well.”

  “I assure you I am neither,” Hamas said, his smile never wavering. “An odd statement coming from the person who doesn’t remember me, yet I still remember you as if it were yesterday.” His annoyance growing, Jarlen tensed reflexively. His subtle movement earned a ring of spear points pressed closer to his throat. “That’s enough!” Hamas said, his soft voice suddenly ringing with command. The spears relaxed, giving Jarlen a bit more breathing room.

  “Ah, a man of magic, I see,” Jarlen said. It was the only reasonable conclusion he could come to. This little old man must have some power and rank in order to command the spiritists that way. It would also explain his complete lack of fear.

  “I am so sorry, Jarlen,” Hamas said, ignoring Jarlen’s misguided assessment of him. “Had I known how you would be treated, I would have gone another way.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “This is my fault, not yours. You are not to blame for what most now see as a murdering monster. I take full responsibility for your suffering, and hope you might be able to forgive me one day.”

  Jarlen laughed. “It takes a big man to claim full responsibility for every human who has ever wronged me.” It was clear he was not taking the little man seriously at all. Most likely, his first assessment was the correct one. This little old man was obviously insane. “But perhaps if your race was a bit more tolerant, this conversation wouldn’t have been necessary in the first place. You have no idea what—”

  Jarlen stopped in midsentence, wondering just when this conversational turn had taken place. Why was he talking to this human like some old friend? What sort of charismatic charm was this? This is exactly what he wants, Jarlen realized. He must have cast a charm spell on me, and now in my vulnerable state, he is searching for information. Well, it won’t work, old man!

  “I have to agree with you there,” Hamas admitted with a chuckle. “We aren’t the most tolerant of races by any stretch. We fear what we do not understand, then label it evil. And why not? That is much easier than taking the time to understand it.” He shrugged. “Perhaps we are deserving of your wrath after all. The more I think about it, the more I realize it must be impossible for you to forgive us, let alone come to our aid in these dire times.”

  Hamas chuckled to himself, his eyes going distant. “But you were not always so angry, you know,” he said. “You were the happy one, happier than Viola was, anyway. I worried more about her than I did about you.” His laugh deepened. “I remember the time she climbed up that tree and couldn’t climb back down. So of course you went up after her.”

  Hamas shook his head. “That didn’t go so well, as I recall. You fell, hitting several branches on the way down. In fact, that was how you got the scars on your right shin and left ankle.”

  Jarlen bit his lower lip, resisting the urge to look down at the hidden scars he was perfectly aware of. How could this little man possibly have known about them? Even the story seemed strangely familiar, as if this memory had always been suppressed somewhere in the back of his mind. Was it possible that... No, it’s not possible. It’s that damn spell he put on me. Curse you, old man.

  “That may very well be the worst part of it all,” Hamas said, no longer smiling. “That brief transition only took place within a few days. That was the extent of your childhood, which is why you and the others can’t remember anything about it.” Hamas covered his eyes. “A child with no childhood memories is the saddest thing in the world. Of all the mistakes I made in bringing you into this world, that is the one I regret the most.

  “There are days when I wish I could go back in time. If I could do it all over again, a lot of things would change. But we cannot live in the past, can we, Jarlen? We must learn from it, but never let it define us. It is who we are now, and what we do today, that truly matters. Not who we used to be. I hope you understand.”

  “Who are you?” Jarlen gasped, unable to stay silent any longer. Spell or not, this felt all too real to him, too familiar to be ignored.

  “A friend,” Hamas said simply, his smile returning once more.

  “They are ready for you,” came a voice from the doorway.

  “Those are no longer necessary,” Hamas said, slapping away the spears circling Jarlen’s neck. “Shall we proceed?” he said, his tone lightening up again. “I know we have given you no reason to trust us, but please, have a little faith. Given a chance, we humans just might surprise you.” With the spiritists lagging behind them, Hamas led Jarlen back to the room.

  Stepping through the doorway together, the two of them received a number of odd looks. Nothing was said directly, but Hamas was sure to get a talking-to for his little stunt later on. Jarlen stepped past the little man and approached the wall map. He seemed completely disinterested in anything else.

  “We have agreed to enlist you and your men to our cause,” Rishima said, glaring at the back of his head. “But understand this, if you think to betray us in any way… Jarlen? Are you even listening to me?”

  “Yes, of course.” He waved back with a flick of his hand without turning around. “You’ve come to the conclusion that working with someone you hate is probably better than dying. And because even that is still not enough, your pride has obligated you to threaten me fur
ther. In other words, if we fail at stopping the ghatins and the realm is destroyed, I will be punished for that as well.”

  This time he did turn around. “Well done. And it only took a room full of bruised egos an hour to come to the only logical conclusion.” Even Liam shifted uncomfortably. Jarlen was right. Everything was at stake, and yet it still came to this. How stubborn did one have to be to let their pride lead the way when it came to such important decisions?

  “Now, will someone please bring me up to speed as to what was being discussed here before I arrived?” Jarlen rapped on the map with his knuckles. “It looks as if you have some sort of plan. It would be best if I heard it before I go inform my men that I’ve sworn allegiance to our enemy. At least that way I won’t look like a fool as well as a coward.”

  “Well,” Hamas began, stepping up to the map, “we do have some ideas of how we might be able to stop the ghatins.” Who is this man? Jarlen thought to himself. “Unfortunately, we are not all in agreement. Within the next few days, the ghatins are going to maneuver themselves along here,” he traced an invisible line along the map, “effectively wiping out every town and village in their path.”

  “You already know where they’re going?” Jarlen asked, caught off guard by his detailed assessment.

  “Indeed we do,” Hamas mumbled, waving off his statement. “If they keep following their current path, and so far we have no reason to believe they won’t, the last remaining human stronghold will be here.” He tapped his finger on a green tack, the only green tack on the entire map.

  “The city of Mirstone,” Jarlen said.

  “Yes,” Viola said, standing to go join them. “Hamas and the others have been trying to convince me that this is where we must make our final stand. They tell me that there is no way to save the others, and that the humans’ only chance is to make it here and hold out until we can reach them. Any who can’t travel that far, or simply can’t get there in time, will become casualties of war.”

  Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “I did not want to face this reality, but a reality it is.” The rolling crack in her voice was quite revealing. This was not an easy decision for her. It meant sacrificing nearly everyone in hope of preserving what humans could reach the stronghold in time.

  Most of the population sacrificed in order to have a chance at preserving the realm. It was enough to make her scream.

  “So no, Hamas, we are no longer in disagreement. You were right all along, there is no other way. As much as it sickens me, I will not hold this up any longer.”

  “How long?” Jarlen asked.

  “Two weeks,” Hamas said.

  Jarlen whistled through his teeth. “I had hoped for more time than that.”

  Viola expected her snake of a brother to mock her in front of the others for admitting her error in judgment, but he did no such thing. As far as she could tell, he was serious about helping. She hated him, would probably always hate him, but she couldn’t deny her relief at what she had seen from him so far. If they were going to find a way to work together, it would have to start right here.

  “But first, we must do one thing above all else,” Viola said, marching over to Rishima. “How many riders can you spare?”

  “As many as you need,” she replied, rising to her feet.

  “We have no time to send messenger birds, and no guarantee they would make it to their destinations anyway. I need you to send riders to each remaining settlement. Spread the word, the humans must get to Mirstone at all costs.”

  “Some will resist,” Rishima reasoned. “Humans get easily attached to material things. Many will refuse to leave their homes and possessions behind, believing they can hold out where others have failed.”

  “Then they cannot be helped.” Viola’s response was unusually unfeeling and detached, but these were unusual circumstances. “We can only help those who are willing to help themselves.”

  “I’ll send the riders at once.” Rishima left, eager to make good on her promise. Her spiritists would take flight within the hour.

  The next several hours were spent hovering around the map. They discussed all possible scenarios, and even those that weren’t even remotely possible. It had all come down to this. A final plan was their top priority.

  Chapter 21

  Provided with his own private quarter, Jarlen sat up on the edge of his bed. A lantern flickered in the corner, providing just enough light to set the walls dancing with shadows. Although the room was more than adequate for his simple needs, he wasn’t going to fall asleep anytime soon. A light knock at the door further confirmed his suspicion. Few in the tower would find rest this night.

  After ignoring the second and third knocks, the door creaked open and in stepped Viola. She stood there a moment, her searching gaze seeking approval. Once Jarlen nodded permission, she closed the door behind her and came to sit next to him.

  “I just came to see if you needed anything,” she said, hands folded on her lap, eyes fixed on the floor.

  “You have provided plenty already,” he replied, also appearing to find great interest in the floor.

  The silence lingered for a time as each of them shifted uncomfortably, changing positions every so often. The creaking of springs might as well have been a horde of angry crickets temporarily shattering the silence. And although the awkwardness was nearly unbearable, Viola made herself stay a little longer. Then a little longer still.

  “What are you thinking about?” Viola asked, her whispered question cutting through the stillness.

  “The same thing we’re all thinking about,” he mumbled back. “This is not the first time I’ve had to fight for my life, but somehow it feels very different. I just hope everyone is up to this.” Again the room fell silent. Both were filled to the brim with thoughts, worries, and concerns, yet neither could find the words to express them.

  “I have to get back to Redwater,” Jarlen said after a time.

  “One of the spiritists is going to take you back in the morning,” Viola reminded him.

  “It’s not like I’m going to sleep tonight anyway,” Jarlen reasoned. “Assuming your calculations are correct, we only have two weeks to prepare. If that is true, then I can’t justify wasting a single day, particularly not lying awake in this room.”

  Viola rose from the bed. “Agreed. Very well, I’ll take you myself.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  “Why bother any of the others when I’m right here?” she reasoned. “Come on, I’ll show you how to fly one of these birds.”

  *

  Jarlen clung to Viola as they soared through the clouds. He hadn’t much enjoyed riding with Liam either, but this was far worse somehow. At least his own fear of heights prompted Liam to fly low and hold his bird steady, but Viola seemed to have no such fear. Flying so high they dipped up into the clouds more often than not, the bumpy ride made Jarlen’s stomach do flips.

  “Is this really necessary?” he asked, face buried into the swell of her back. “Or at least can you fly a little lower?”

  “You said you were in a hurry,” Viola replied, hoping he couldn’t hear the grin in her words. She was enjoying this way too much. “This is the fastest way I can get you back.”

  “It won’t matter if we die before we get there,” he mumbled into the wind.

  But true to her word, they were back in Redwater soon enough. When they landed, alarmed lerwicks came rushing out into the streets. Jarlen threw up his hands, hurrying to dissuade any aggressive action on their part. For all they knew, he was being held captive, or worse. He would be doing a lot of explaining this night, and he was not looking forward to any of it. But there was something else on his mind as well. Something that had been bothering him all day.

  Jumping off the back of the raven, he kept his hands in the air to keep his men at bay. It was even more important now that he was no longer in the line of fire. They had a clear shot at Viola if any one wished to take it.

  “I must a
sk you something,” he said. “That little old man I spoke with, who is he?”

  “You mean Hamas?” Viola asked.

  “Yes, that little human. He knew things he couldn’t possibly...” Jarlen shook his head. “Do I...we...know him from somewhere?” Embarrassed, his shoulders fell as soon as he asked the question.

  Viola leaned down in her saddle. “He is a trusted friend.” The look on his face was less than satisfactory. Obviously he wanted a bit more detail. “I’ll make you a deal,” she continued, enjoying the bit of taunting. “When this is over, if we live to tell the tale, I promise to answer all your questions.”

  With that, she reared back on the reins and took flight.

  Jarlen sighed and looked back at his men all watching him expectantly. It was time to have a long talk, then begin preparations. It no longer mattered whether or not they were ready. It was time for action, and the stakes couldn’t be higher. Sides no longer mattered. Pride and misplaced loyalty were now a thing of the past, relics from a world that no longer existed.

  On her way back, Viola’s thoughts drifted in a thousand directions at once. For so long now, revenge against Jarlen for his betrayal had been a major force driving many of her decisions. And now, due to extreme circumstances, they were forced to set aside their differences and work together. After what he had done, it was hard to imagine having to trust this man. What reason does he have to trust me? We just might be on equal footing for once.

  Not really in much of a hurry to get back, she flew low in the sky. From here she got a good look at the landscape below, or what was left of it anyway. Several towns had been reduced to rubble, others were nothing more than smoldering pits of black ash. Going completely unchallenged, the ghatins had wiped everything as far as the eye could see. This level of devastation was hard to comprehend.