Minotaur: Blooded (The Bestial Tribe)

by Naomi Lucas

  Vedikus stared after her for a time, feeling his blood pumping through his veins, his rage darkening to simmer into something else. He wanted to feel bones snap between his fingers, to hear the struggle of his enemies falling before him. His palms dampened with sweat as other sensations poured through him, like how he wanted to feel Aldora back in his arms, to struggle within his grasp, but with a look of pleasure on her face instead of pain.

  She faced away from him and would not turn back to meet his eyes. He detested that he did not know what happened between her and the hag, but he knew Aldora was right. The hag was gone. He could no longer sense her presence among all the dead that inhabited Prayer. Looking for her now would just be a wasted effort and time they could spend elsewhere.

  Light began to stream in powdery, grey wisps through the cracks in the ceiling and he knew they could no longer linger. Vedikus looked down at the vial still resting in his hand. The edges of the wax slipped with the first hints of melting from his body heat.

  Was his seed, old seed given to her, worth more than her life?

  His rage tempered in the silence as Aldora finished up the meal, not leaving a single morsel behind.

  “I do not relish not knowing what the hag could use it for,” he said, finding a hard-earned calmness return to his voice. The steam roiling in his lungs dispersed to be absorbed back into his body. He turned back toward the shadowy passageway. “We will leave for my lands when you are done. By nightfall we will be in the mountains.”

  “I trust her,” Aldora’s voice trailed after him, but he did not turn back.

  And I trust you.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ***

  Aldora stood on the final broken step of the temple before the rest disappeared into the grasses and muck of the bog. She could already feel her boots sink into the mud and hated every second of it. She would hate it more when it was real. There was little left on her person but for some provisions she had pilfered from Calavia.

  Stolen. The plants they plucked from within lay in hastily crafted knotted bags at her waist, made from her ruined cambric. The excess cloth she had left as payment, cleaned and folded.

  She watched Vedikus return, stalking his way out of the mist. Anger had molded his features since that morning and she knew she had lost his trust. She did not want to lie to him nor evade the truth, but she was out of her element. If there had been another way, she would have taken it. It infuriated her that he was angry.

  Aldora sighed, feeling defeated and nervous.

  “Did you find her?” she asked as he approached, his hooves splashing water and his short tail swinging.

  “She is gone.”

  “And the encampment? Were there any survivors? Have any of them made it to Prayer?” None had shown up after them to disturb them during the night. It had always been a possibility, but she was uncertain whether the hag would allow it or not.

  The fact that she still had all her blood and new clothes—although they would not hold up long—had given her a sense of dependence on the place. She did not want to depend upon it. Her eyes moved back and forth over the faded landscape.

  “Three have survived and are in the process of burning out the rest of their camp. If they do not head back to the shore, they will come here and seek vengeance.”

  “Let us leave now.” She no longer felt safe staying in one place too long, even if that place had food and shelter.

  He rounded on her, eyes glinting with agitation. “Are you so quick to flee, Aldora? You have received a gift from our host, have you not? From a host who never gifts freely. I would think you would want to stay here and settle.”

  She did not like him voicing her innermost thoughts. “I’m not fleeing,” she said. “But I’m not willing to stay here either. It’s too quiet...” The stillness unnerved her, and the flits of movement shrouded in white frightened her. The last thing she wanted was to remain in Prayer. “I choose to remain with you.”

  “You had no choice in that matter, now or ever,” he snapped, eyes alight with sudden anger before vanishing again. She swallowed weakly. “It’s the thralls.” Vedikus had his hand over one of his axes. “They suck up the senses inside you then do the same to the land. This place is akin to an open wound so close to minotaur lands, but the hag and her minions have been here longer than my clan and will remain well after my bloodline is gone. Even in a land as dangerous as this, some things remain eternal.” His gaze sharpened on her.

  Her mouth went dry and she hugged her arms around herself. “I have not seen them.”

  The vial and its contents had not been given back to her to take. To see what she could become?

  “Follow closely.” Vedikus walked off the steps and back into the high grasses. “And say your goodbyes, we will not return. You will not want to.”

  Aldora rushed to his side, already knowing a goodbye was too much for this place.

  The mist ballooned around her like a bubble in the early morning light to brighten up the strips of rotting wood cast about. She recalled it from the night before, but seeing the ghostly echoes of old life struck her in a way she hadn’t expected. She’d seen ruins and stone walls, hedges, and broken monoliths, but the wood pallets were too close to home. What would Vedikus’s tribe be like?

  Ramshackle, decaying houses made from the same old wood appeared around her like monstrous sentinels in a quiet, grey field. Most no longer had doors, and those that did sat ajar and in pieces, hanging tenuously on rusted hinges. She peered inside the nearest one and saw broken crates and shadows, but nothing that would indicate the dwelling had an inhabitant.

  Something moved inside, and she drew back.

  Vedikus stopped a short ways away and waited. Aldora glanced from him and back to the shack, her legs tensing as she forced her unease deep inside. Groans and creaks, and bubbling pops sounded at her feet and from within. Shrouded by the mist, something approached, and she felt Vedikus’s presence at her side.

  His grounded aura assuaged her budding fear when a nearly naked elderly man stepped from the shack’s shadows. He was followed shortly after by several others, all shrunken and pallid behind him, and all in varying states of dress. She sucked in a breath.

  Dead white eyes met hers, emotionless, numb, hollowed of all that once made them human. One opened its mouth and moaned steadily, revealing grey, engorged gums where teeth should have been. Strips of long, nasty hair fell in stringy waves down their bodies, the same with their nails, which were spiraling away from their fingertips.

  A screech and thump pricked her ears and she noticed that the old man was dragging a piece of wood. They all carried something. The two men that flanked the elderly one both possessed pitchforks.

  Aldora took a step backward and into Vedikus’s chest. His hand came up to rest on her shoulder.

  “Why do they hold weapons?”

  “The hag must have commanded them to do so. They do little of their own accord.”

  Calavia. Aldora glanced around, remember the hag’s mother was supposedly among the creatures living in this place. “I want to leave.”

  More thralls made their way out of the fog and into her line of sight. Some with holes where eyes used to be, some with mouths agape, while others who were less ghoulish gripped farm tools with preternatural ease.

  Vedikus grunted but led her away. They walked slowly, steadily, through Prayer, leaving in the opposite direction from whence they came. She wanted to run—to escape this place as fast as possible—but was stopped by Vedikus’s hold on her. It did not matter if sanctuary was found here. Aldora finally realized why she and Vedikus were the only outsiders. Nobody comes here unless they have dire need.

  She desperately wanted to put as much distance between herself and this place as possible. Vedikus squeezed her arm to slow her.

  “Do not move fast. They may decide you pose a threat.”

  She nodded and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. She steeled herself with looking forward and
not around where several thralls were following them.

  “Why are they following us?”

  “For the same reason they are holding weapons.”

  They walked for some time in silence and she listened to the drudging footsteps of the things that trailed them. They were roars in her ears as more and more joined the first. She noticed Vedikus quietly, and very slowly, lift one of his axes from his side to rest in his hand when the splashes of distant, thundering steps sounded in the mist. It echoed back at them, growing louder with each passing second. Her eyes widened. Vedikus stilled. The thralls stumbled to a stop with them.

  “Mist,” Vedikus scowled, “we need to move.” He walked ahead and tugged her forward. The others remained frozen, staring wordlessly as they passed.

  “What is that?”

  “Survivors,” he hissed.

  Aldora reached down and tugged the dagger from her boot and picked up her step, forgetting about the nearly lifeless bodies surrounding them. As they neared the outskirts of the settlement, dilapidated huts became rotting piles of wood, and their escorts dispersed. The noises grew more distant as they approached the lights leading out of Prayer, away from the centaurs who now sought their own sanctuary, and away from the eerie distress the old town wanted to drown her in.

  Just as Aldora began to relax, she saw a lone figure that seemed to be waiting for the pair emerging from the mist, outside of the sphere of green light that marked the hag’s domain. A middle-aged woman with hair that caught in the tall grasses stood before them. She was naked and pale to the point she nearly blended into the ashen fog.

  But it was the bright red color of blood rushing down the woman’s legs that took her aback.

  Aldora shivered and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the woman wouldn’t be there when she reopened them, wishing she had never seen her in the first place.

  Vedikus pressed her past the lone woman and she, too, faded into the landscape at their back.

  ***

  They trekked for the rest of that morning and afternoon through the wetlands. Vedikus set a brutal pace and would not allow for long stops of rest. He kept his eyes upward and his ears to the world while keeping his hold on Aldora. She staggered through the mud, and when the water was too deep, and the grasses too high, he lifted her into his arms and carried her through the worst.

  She was lighter now, if subtly so, and he vowed to feed her a feast of his kills when she lay recovering in his nest of pelts. Vedikus pictured it, knowing it would be a reality soon. He was eager for a reprieve from the stresses of traveling with a human, one he had grown to care for deeply. He could still feel her pure blood traveling through his veins, bolstering his endurance. His brothers would help him in his endeavors and protect Aldora as if she were one of their own.

  It did not sit well that he would have to rely on them, but he would suffer it if it meant he would have the added layers of safety for him and his own. It took a tribe to raise a calf. It would take all the Bathyr since it would be their first.

  I look forward to it.

  The vial sat heavily in a new pouch dangling from his leathers. A bubble of steam bloomed in his lungs. He would never know what happened between the hag and Aldora, but having the cure within his grasp was all that he cared about. The magic imbued in it left a trail that linked them with Prayer, and he knew that the hag and her legion would need to be dealt with at a later date. The settlement was too close to his mountain.

  His seed—directly descended from the first bull—was strong, and the magic it created would be equally potent. After he and Aldora were settled, he would bring his brothers back and reclaim it.

  If he was still angry, it was because she had left his side. My mother disobeyed my sire at every turn. Vedikus looked down at Aldora resting with her head on his shoulder.

  There is much to do. He would need to restock his personal stores to account for two for the coming seasons and prepare for his future offspring.

  When his cloven feet hit dry land, the sun was already descending toward twilight. Vedikus squeezed Aldora gently.

  “We have made it past the dregs, female. We will be within Bathyr lands by nightfall.” He lowered her to the ground. She held onto him as she found her bearings.

  “Will your clan accept me?”

  “There is nothing to accept. You have mated with me and could even now be carrying a Bathyr in your womb. They will guard the clan’s future with their lives.” Vedikus led her away from the water. The strum of his heart lessened now that mud no longer sucked at his hooves.

  “Are there... are there other humans?” Excitement colored her voice.

  “No.”

  “Oh.”

  He tugged her hair. “You are the first and will not be the last. Astegur, my brother, is out in the wilds seeking out his own prizes and knowledge to bring back to the tribe. He may well return with a human if you seek to find comfort with your own kind.”

  “Astegur... Is he anything like you?” Aldora asked at his side, keeping pace. Vedikus had last seen his younger brother when they left the mountain together. Astegur was the weakest among them but rarely lost a battle when it came to wit. What his brother lacked in brutality, he compensated with craftiness.

  “He likes a puzzle. Astegur was born third to my mother and is closest in age to me. We were reared together in my parent’s stable and there is... competition between us. He will not like that I have found a mate before him, let alone a human one at that. No, we are not entirely alike but we are kin, and we were born with power, and so, overall yes, we are similar. The Bathyr all are.”

  “I have two younger sisters. We are alike but not, I understand.”

  “Then you understand loyalty.”

  “I would know what loyalty is regardless of my siblings. Loyalty is why I know I could never go back home because if I did, I would endanger them—put a target on their backs—and if that happened... I could never live with myself. I only hope they are okay and do not suffer for my actions.”

  His eyes sharpened on her. “I have not seen you cry for them.”

  She briefly met his gaze before turning away. “I did the first night.”

  Vedikus nodded. “And your loyalty, are you loyal to me?”

  “I am.”

  He stopped and watched her as she took a couple steps forward before looking back to face him again. He had not expected her admission so easily and it helped soothe his displeasure. Aldora hugged herself against a chilly breeze at her back which sent her hair flying across her face. Vedikus closed the distance and burrowed his nose and mouth into the crook of her neck, breathing her in. She reached up and grabbed his horns as he licked her shoulder and neck. His body stirred, and he pulled back.

  “You have my loyalty as well, human.”

  Aldora smiled softly and he puffed out his chest. They lingered in the moment for as long as possible, staring wordlessly at each other, and he tried to tell her everything and more with his eyes. Home. They would build one together. She took his hand and they continued with enough energy to renew their steps.

  The ground changed as they began to ascend from the plains back to the rocky and uneven terrain of the highlands. There was no steep cliff this time, but a gradual climb, and they turned direction to follow the crags. He scanned the clearing for the signs of his clan.

  Daylight still brightened the mist, but he could no longer see the tiny dot of the sun, and it wasn’t until the faded orange haze of evening that they came upon the first marker. A gust of cold mountain air met them as they approached.

  “A warning of the lands we are about to enter,” he said. “Let me see your dagger.” Vedikus waited as Aldora handed him the weapon and he pulled taut a small lock of her hair. “This will be a warning for all those who dare test us.” He cut her hair and tied it to the post.

  “To be afraid of me?”

  “To know that this clan has braved the barrier lands and returned victorious, but yes, if it pleases you, all creatures in
this place should fear your power as well.”

  She laughed softly, and he liked the sound. “I won’t go down without a fight. I knew that before in Thetras, but I know that more than ever, now.”

  “I have taught you bad habits,” he teased back. A small smile curled on her lips and he found his own lowering toward them. The breeze blew her shift back, plastering it against her body, outlining what he enjoyed so much underneath.

  “Will you teach me to fight? To wield my dagger and possibly even your axes to protect myself and to... protect us?”

  Vedikus grasped her hand, finding her skin cool to the touch. “I will teach you more than that; you’ll learn how to kill. You’ll help make the Bathyr lands dangerous and our children will be feared throughout the world. They will need a mother who can meet them on the field.”

  Her smile grew. “Did your mother fight?”

  “Yes, and wielded the small amount of magic she was given, but she was better with potions and medicines. There wasn’t an ailment she could not treat, and she has passed down that knowledge to her children.” He slid his hand up her arm, discovering the rest of her equally as cold.

  “I would like to learn that as well.”

  “And you will.” Vedikus peered at Aldora’s exposed skin when another cold draft hit them. He blocked the worst of it. “Are you cold?”

  “No.”

  “Your skin is frigid. Do not lie.” Her smile faltered and she ran her palms over her arms, slowly at first, then with increasing speed.

  “I’m not cold at all,” she whispered hoarsely and turned away. “I’m not cold, but I don’t feel the warmth of my hands.” She grasped his and then felt his skin. “I don’t feel your heat either. Vedikus...” Her eyes widened with fear.