Dragon Flight: Sisera's Gift 3 (Dragonblood Sagas Book 5)

by Robyn Wideman

  The words that came from the big man sent Raven reeling in confusion. The idea sounded so crazy but somehow very romantic. She did feel the connection they had but, at the same time, she was also his prisoner and enemy. I do owe him for sparing my life, she thought.

  “West.” Her voice was barely a whisper causing Tarak to lean in closely again. “The islands to the west. I don’t know specifics but there were rumors when I was a child that there was a place of great magic somewhere in those islands that attracted many powerful mages.”

  “Thank you,” Tarak whispered and kissed her lightly on the cheek. He turned and left the room, shutting the door lightly behind him.

  Raven’s shock rendered her momentarily paralyzed.

  What did I just do?

  13

  Tarak left the building to find his brother stacking wood into the fire pit. Santaal mumbled a word and a small ball of flame leaped from his hand and set the stack ablaze. Satisfied, he brushed his hands together as Tarak approached.

  “Did it work?” he asked.

  Tarak smiled and shrugged, carelessly tossing his hands up to the sides. “Maybe. She says there are islands in the west with a great source of power. Could be something.”

  “See, you can still do magic,” Santaal laughed and went back to preparing a meal. “I still think you should kill her.”

  “I know,” Tarak said and walked away, making his way to the far edge of the plateau where it dropped away into a sheer cliff. He sat on the edge and watched the sun go down over the wide green world before him.

  He couldn’t deny there was a part of him that longed for a simpler life, perhaps farming a plot of land, or owning a shop in a busy city. He could have a wife and maybe produce some offspring that he could teach his ways to.

  He had been fighting since their father had disappeared and abandoned him and his brother to the streets of North Port. They clawed and crawled their way up from the gutter and now had the world at their fingertips as high-ranking members of the Sacred Blood. That position and power came with a price, though, as the Sacred Blood required a certain type of lifestyle, one that he was content living.

  Until we were thrown across the world and I lost my magic, he thought as he tossed plum-sized rocks into the growing darkness below.

  Maybe it happened for a reason. Maybe this is destiny. This could be the god’s giving him an opportunity to change and mend his ways. Maybe the dark-haired warrior was a gift for his years of service. The preposterous thought made Tarak laugh.

  She was like no other woman he had ever met except she was just as easily manipulated. He did not need magic when he could just as easily pour honey in her ear to coerce her into answering his question. He had actually enjoyed the experience though, which came as somewhat of a surprise. The woman stirred feelings within him that were strange and unsettling He had been with many women over the years but not a single one had him questioning his own devotion to the faith.

  “Garron would not be pleased,” he said in a low voice as he watched shadows close in over the world around him. “Is this a test of faith perhaps?”

  Tarak sat thinking on the cliff ledge until, sometime later, Santaal called him to eat. The two brothers sat around the campfire and devoured bowls of boar stew made with potatoes and herbs Santaal had found growing wild outside of the temple. The meal was delicious and the two men enjoyed it in silence.

  When they had finished, Tarak refilled the bowls and took them into the house. He took the first bowl to the dark-haired warrior. When he opened the door, he found her sitting against the wall, staring into space, very much like when she had been infected by the mind-control but he knew for certain that was not the case any longer.

  “Eat. It’s delicious,” he said, placing the bowl at her feet. She slowly looked up at him but Tarak hurriedly shut and barred the door. He was thankful she didn’t try to speak to him. He did not relish the position he was in and anything that made the process smoother was most welcome.

  He opened the door and found the girl sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room. He chuckled as she was screaming at him but no sound could be heard. As he crossed through the doorway and entered Santaal’s bubble of silence. Suddenly, his ears were assaulted by the venomous words of the filthblood girl.

  “Let me go, Priest,” the red-headed girl shouted, not bothering to get up. “You are going to regret this.”

  Tarak noticed the color had faded from her face and skin and she was deathly pale. Being separated from her dragon seemed to take a heavy toll on the filthblood and Tarak hoped that her spirit would still be worth capturing once his abilities returned. He knew that she had been a capable mage before the dragons returned and that her powers merely increased when she bonded but she showed very few signs of that ability since coming through the portal.

  When she first woke, Tarak saw a flame appear to grow in her hand but it soon faded as she screamed in agony, presumably from the effort of trying to use her magic. Since then, she had shown no sign of spellcrafting whatsoever and Tarak thought it was probably the case because with any such ability she could escape the cell easily.

  One thing that surprised Tarak was that her shattered left arm had repaired itself after only a day. He had thought that it was her dragon magic that caused the rapid repair but after discovering the water from the pool in the temple had regenerative qualities he wasn’t so sure anymore.

  “Shut your mouth, wyrm-spawn, or it will be shut for you. Eat because you’re going to need your strength tomorrow,” Tarak said, dropping the bowl of stew on the floor in front of her. The impact caused the bowl to spill most its contents onto the floor. Without another word, he left the room, shutting the door forcefully behind him.

  Filthy wench, Tarak thought as he spat on the floor. He longed to run his black-steel blade into her gut and spill her insides but he had to be patient. He was not looking forward to transporting her across dangerous, unfamiliar territory but he could not risk killing her yet. A little discomfort now would save him a lot of discomfort later from the Brides.

  Tarak slept lightly and he felt refreshed when Santaal woke him for his turn at watch. He took the opportunity to pack his gear and don his armor in preparation for their departure from the mountain. When he was satisfied that he was ready, he found that there were still more than a couple hours before dawn so he took to strolling around the grounds of the caretaker’s house one last time.

  What a treat it would be to live in a place like this, he thought. But, even a place like this would not be safe from the tyranny of the dragons so I must go on.

  He was the champion, the chosen one, who would lead the fight against the wyrms. It was his responsibility to ensure that things were done right this time, that the beasts were put down instead of hidden away, only to return and cause chaos at a later time. He had to remain steadfast to the cause no matter what it cost him.

  Shortly before light broke, Tarak woke Santaal and the two men made the final preparations. Tarak opened the door to Raven’s cell and found the warrior woman already awake. Silently he bade her to stand with her hands in front. She understood and complied. He wrapped a long strip of fabric around her hands, binding them together as well as creating a thick padding around them.

  “Hold still. This won’t hurt,” he said softly when he had tied a secure knot.

  Santaal walked into the cell and, without making any eye contact with Raven, murmured a phrase. A thin stream of liquid came from his outstretched hand and became ice as soon as it made contact with her bound hands. He worked quickly, moving his hand back and forth, around and around, and soon there was a thick icy globe covering her hands. When he was finished with her hands he went to work on her feet, starting from her knees so she could not just slip out of her boots.

  “Once the ice melts and frees you, we will be long gone,” Tarak whispered in her ear as he watched his brother apply the icy bond. “I hope that your end of our bargain is as true as mine.”

&
nbsp; Tarak looked into the warrior woman’s deep brown eyes and a fleeting thought of what could have been entered his mind. He shook the thought away and gave her a slight smile.

  Santaal finished securing Raven to the floor and left without uttering a word. Tarak inspected the work and when he was satisfied that it would hold, once again stood and met Raven’s eyes.

  “Farewell, warrior,” he said simply and smiled before leaving the cell to assist his brother apply the icy bond to Shayla’s hands. Tarak could feel Raven’s eye’s watching him but if she said anything, he did not know because the spell of silence still shrouded the Dragonblood girl’s cell.

  Shayla struggled violently at first but the spell-ice soon brought that to an end when he covered most of her upper body so that movement of that half was exceedingly difficult. When he was finished, Santaal had left her just enough mobility to walk but not much more than that.

  Tarak fitted a sturdy rope through a loop on her back and knotted it. He gave it a few violent jerks to ensure that it was secure.

  “She looks good,” Santaal said with a laugh.

  Shayla began to hurl insults at the slim brother but he mumbled a word and the spell of silence shrunk down around her head.

  “Clever,” Tarak said with a nod of agreement. “And, it will stay there?”

  “Unless there is a freak lightning storm along the way, it should hold,” Santaal said.

  “Perfect,” Tarak said and gave Shayla a push toward the door but the Dragonblood fell to ground, limp. Tarak recognized the look the girl had on her face as one of stubborn defiance. He had seen that look many times in his life; he knew how to deal with it.

  Without hesitation, Tarak pulled one of his black-steel blades and put a slight nick in her leg, slightly above her right knee. The girl screamed in agony, though he could only tell by the look on her face thanks to the silence spell.

  “Walk or I will cut off your legs and drag you,” he said calmly with a deep, guttural tone. The look in her eyes told him that she agreed to his terms. He pulled the girl to her feet and gently nudged her in the proper direction. Shayla complied without struggle.

  Tarak was about to leave the building when it a strange thought came to his mind, a thought of sentiment. I think that I might actual miss this exceptional woman. He walked back to her cell to gaze on her one last time but as he laid eyes on the woman bound with magical ice, he regretted the decision. Her once kind, understanding face now showed nothing but disgust and hatred. Tarak knew that look very well. It was a look that told him that he was one step closer to accomplishing his goal.

  He could not blame her for hating him now. Perhaps more correctly, hating him more so than she did before. It was understandable. That’s the way most people felt about him.

  With a slight nod of his head as a genuine show of respect, Tarak turned and headed out for the journey west.

  …

  Raven was couldn’t decide if she was more disgusted with the big man who was High Priest of the Sacred Blood or herself for finding that monster of a man attractive in any way.

  She watched with impotent horror as Tarak tortured the helpless young girl right before her eyes. Raven had enough experience with black-steel to know it cut like a razor and caused an immense amount of pain when it did.

  On top of it all, the disgusting man had the audacity to come back and eye her like she would fall to her knees before him with lust in her eyes.

  The one and only feeling Raven had was a burning desire for revenge.

  She lifted the ball of ice that bound her hands high above her head and brought it crashing down on the ice that held her feet to the floor. Like a blacksmith pounding hot iron, Raven hammered her icy bonds for hours.

  Sweat poured down her face but her determination fed her strength and soon the ice began to chip and crack. After what seemed like hours, the ice binding her hands shattered. With renewed vigor, Raven quickly unwrapped the cloth from her hands but rewound it around only her right hand which she used to pound away at the ice around her legs. Her hand began to throb painfully but her effort paid off when the ice cracked enough for her to break away a large chuck from around her knee. From there on the ice broke away easily and she was soon free.

  Exhausted and drenched with sweat, Raven immediately ran from the house and directly to the steps that led up to the temple. The time the Brothers had control over her body left her a lot of time to scheme and plot. She had a plan but she had considered it only for extreme emergencies. The life of the young Dragonblood fit that criteria so Raven launched herself up the steps two, sometimes three, at a time.

  Her body was threatening to quit altogether once she made it to the top but she knew the end was near. Into the temple and down the narrow staircase she went, as quickly as she possibly could but she was beginning to falter. She tripped and fell, crashing end over end until she could stop herself although the act of doing so caused a shooting pain up her left leg.

  Fueled by adrenaline, she reached the cavern below and threw herself into the shimmering pool. She drank as much water as she could stomach then rolled herself over the edge and emerged soaking wet from head to toe. Revitalized by the magical liquid, Raven rushed back up the staircase. Going up was much easier even though the water that dripped from her was making the stairs slippery.

  She reached the top of the staircase and after a brief pause to gain her bearings, Raven ran full speed toward the set of tall double doors that were set on the right wall of the antechamber. The doors burst open with the force of her full weight smashing against them, letting her out onto a wide cobblestone veranda.

  Raven remember this veranda as a child. She would beg her mother to hold her hand tightly so she could peer over the edge and down the farthest drop she had ever seen in her life. Her father told her that at the bottom of the drop was the beginning of the staircase that led up to the temple. She could remember staring over the edge with a feeling of tremendous awe but then, more vividly, could she remember the intense fear she felt when her father, in jest, pretended to push her over the short stone railing, intricately carved with images of vines with broad leaves.

  The event did mark an important turning point in her life. She found she could never really trust her father again after that which led to the conflict between them and her departure from Solotine. It was one of the memories she very badly wanted to forget but would come to haunt her at night in her dreams. The recollection of her own screams was the worst part.

  She had screamed like she never had before. She screamed until her throat was coarse and raw, until the taste of iron filled her mouth. She had never known fear like that ever before in her life.

  As she grew older and more experienced in the ways of the world, Raven found there were many things in the world to fear more than heights. In her mind, a fear of heights was silly and childish.

  At least, that is what she told herself as she threw herself over the short stone leafy railing.

  14

  “You bastards are surprisingly vigilant,” Kai yelled at the wolfhounds although he was not so sure they could hear him from under the protection of the overhang.

  More than a few times they had tried to swipe at him but he was out of their reach short of entering the pool which apparently was not an option for any of them. So, instead they sat and waited for him.

  Kai had spent most of the night freezing in the pool but at least he was alive. He had nodded off a few times only to have his nose fill with water which snapped him awake.

  Where did those beasts come from? There is no way they could have been here this whole time without me knowing about them, he thought to himself.

  He had still not come up with a plan and he knew his time was running out. He could not stay in the pool forever. The beasts, however, also could not stay there forever but Kai was unsure whether he had the strength to wait them out.

  Suddenly, the wolfhounds began to howl which brought Kai back from near slumber with the terrifyin
g noise. Something was spooking them. Kai could hear the beasts moving around again. He tried to see but his view was restricted by the overhang that protected him.

  Was that a shout?

  He must be dreaming. There was no possible way. He took a risk and moved to the edge to have a better look. Sure enough, the wolfhounds were moving away toward whatever made the sound.

  “Heel.”

  That was definitely the voice of another human. Kai’s heart began to race as quickly as his mind, adrenaline surging through his body once again. The voice sounded like it was coming from the beaten path which meant it was coming from the direction of the beach. Perhaps there was a ship. Perhaps he was being rescued.

  He waited for many minutes after the wolfhounds disappeared before leaving his safe spot. He struggled to climb the bank of the pool because his muscles were not cooperating with what his mind wanted him to do. He finally reached the top of the bank and lay on the grass to catch his breath. He noted as he lay there that the grass was already flattened from the weight of a large wolfhound.

  Get up, Kai, he told himself over and over, willing his body into motion. Slowly, he planted first one hand, then the other and pushed himself up to a kneeling position. He looked around and thanked the gods the wolfhounds had not come back because he had no more strength to escape.

  Kai was soaked from head to foot and his body was sorer than it had ever been in his life but he was alive. He also had all his weapons, which was a pleasant bonus. He could at least defend himself should the need arise.

  He followed the line of the path but walked carefully through dense brush. It was much slower but he knew we would not be seen by anyone. He reached the beach just as the sky began to lighten.

  On the beach were four longboats, which were used by sailors to travel to shore when there was no dock available. Kai looked for a ship but could see no sign of one in the bay but the boats must have come from somewhere.