Deadly Intentions (Blood Feud - Volume 2)

by David Temrick

  “I will fly to Terum and help Tristan.” Otis volunteered.

  “As will I.” Drake pledged.

  “Well I can’t be the only one who isn’t willing to sacrifice. Fine, fine. I’ll go help the boy.” Ben grumbled. “The women should leave at first light. I will go to the elves and ask for aid. Otis has always gotten along well with the dwarves; I think he should go seek their aide.”

  “Agreed.” Drake said.

  “You can stay here and tend the hatchlings.” Ben said sarcastically to Drake with a mischievous grin, to which everyone laughed in reply.

  ~

  “No.” Mina answered flatly.

  Several days later, Lesa and Eurydice Vallious sat in Mina’s favorite garden. It took little to convince the young Vallius Princess to come along with her. She held her brother in no little awe and strove to be like him in all ways, including selfless bravery. Euri had also voiced her reluctance to slay the young, having no sexist stance towards killing adult women she still had little desire to take the lives of infants and children.

  She was a brilliant young lady though, and easily grasped the powers at play and knew dragon lore as well as her brother, perhaps better in some respects. Euri brought along her metal staff, and flew with Lesariu through the pre-dawn gloom from Kumia, where she had been tending her sister-in-law, to Delhi. The pair of them had hastily made their way up the large stairway of the palace. It took little time to find Mina, who was busy feeding Jonathan in her favorite garden. His tutor, leaving the three women to talk in privacy, retrieved Jonathan.

  The pair of them had recounted the history of the draconic race and how they came to live on this world. Even after Lesa shared her memory of orc barbarism with her granddaughter they could make no progress in convincing her to take up this terrible burden.

  “I understand they must be slaughtered, even if it would only serve to protect my son from the same fate as Draconis’ father.” Mina explained; her voice was heavy with emotion as she continued. “I simply can’t see how I would be able to help in anyway.”

  Lesa looked at Euri in exasperation, despite her granddaughter’s insistence that she had no skills to offer, the pair of them knew better. Euri picked up a plum from the tray sitting between them; she felt the plum with her mind, investigating every nook and cranny. She looked over the top of the plum, seeing Mina watching her closely. Smiling, she launched the plum at the sister of her heart with her mind.

  The small fruit sped towards Mina’s face at an incredible speed. Just before it was to strike her it hit an invisible barrier and took off at an angle away from her. Lesa shared a knowing smirk with the younger Princess as Mina sat in complete stupefied shock. She looked pleadingly at her grandmother and Euri and again said;

  “No.” Mina said in little more than a whimper. “I have a son to take care of.” She said a little more firmly.

  “Your son is one of the more important reasons why we need to stamp out this threat now.” Euri urged.

  Lesa knew her granddaughter had never been the physical sort; her life had been one of pampered luxury. She had hoped however that the betrayal of her father would have opened her eyes to a much larger world than she had previously known. Sadly, this was not the case. Yet there was a feeling deep in her being that Mina needed to be a part of this fight, if for nothing else than to show her son that freedom is anything but free. She watched Mina as her heart broke, knowing that she was asking her to set aside the spoiled Princess and do what must be done.

  “I don’t even know how to fight.” She said, seeing neither Lesa nor Euri accepting her refusal.

  “Remember when you were a little girl and the traveling bard company came through Guis?” Lesa asked. A confused look passed over Mina’s face as she nodded.

  “You were fascinated by that woman’s ribbon dance.” Lesa added.

  “Diane. Her name was Diane.” Mina admitted.

  “Your father arranged for her to stay for a few months and teach you how to dance with a ribbon.” Her grandmother concluded.

  “What of it? I certainly can’t kill with a ribbon.” Mina shot in anger.

  “Are you sure?” Euri asked playfully.

  Mina shot her a glare, to which Euri simply smiled wider and handed over a long wooden box. The box was deeply stained to a pleasant dark brown color; golden metal trim ran along its lid and along the grooves of its opening. A small brass latch kept the lid down, and Mina gently pushed the hook out of its eyelet and opened it.

  Inside, laying on a plush purple silk pillow sat the oddest-looking material. It was slender, like one of her many necklaces; however none of her necklaces chains were linked so closely together. Mina ran her fingers along an unbend part of the long chain, it was smooth to the touch and felt oddly warm against her soft skin. She reached a bend in the chain and while the inside of the curve was smooth and without blemish, the outside slit the tip of her middle finger open.

  Mina gasped and drew back her hand, putting her middle finger into her mouth to stem the flow of blood. She gave the pair of them a troubled look as she reached into her robe and drew out a handkerchief and wrapped it around her finger. When she was satisfied that she’d at least slowed the flow of blood from her finger, she looked up at them.

  “I’ll hurt myself more than others with that thing.” She said pleadingly.

  “Not likely. I asked Kevin to make it for you; I was going to save it for Solstice but under the circumstances…” Euri let her voice fall off.

  Mina returned her attention to the weapon; she decided that ribbon was an inappropriate name for this item. Regardless, it resembled the fine ribbons she’d learnt with and still used when time permitted. She looked up at Lesa and asked; “How do I make that barrier come back?”

  “For now it will come by instinct, in time you will learn how to call upon it at will.” Lesa answered kindly.

  Mina gently reached into the box and grasped the handle of the weapon; the chain appeared to be about seven feet long of inter-connected chains. The handle was metal, wrapped in leather and despite the hard materials used; Prince Kevin had made it a thing of refined beauty. Mina placed the box on the ground and stood up, pulling the chain out as she did so. Finally the end emerged, a very small mace looking piece of metal. She reached down and lifted the light metal mace, it looked rather like…

  “A dragon fist, yes.” Euri offered. “Kevin saw a few things like this over the years and after we talked about your ribbon dance at the last Midsummer Solstice festival, he devised a way to create something that could be as deadly as the dance was lovely.” She explained.

  The dragon fist as Euri called it had a handle that looked as though two dragon talons were held back to back and tied together with a fine metal ribbon. The end was quite light, almost like the small ball of gathered fabric on the end of her favorite dance ribbons. Mina experimentally flicked the handle, a move that would have sent a lovely wave down the length of one of her ribbons; the chain mimicked the movement flawlessly and then the weighed tip lodged itself in the bole of a nearby palm tree.

  “Amazing.” Mina said as she gave the handle another twitch, which would have loosened the fabric of her ribbons if they had become tangled. The tip wobbled back and forth a half-dozen times before falling to the ground.

  In a fit of childish excitement she whipped the handle again, sending the chain in a tight loop around her torso as she spun. She flicked her wrist again and the chain shot out and wrapped itself around the same palm tree. Mina pulled tight and the chain cinched around the bole of the palm tree. As she pulled back the bark began to splinter the surrounding area slightly. Immediately she released the tension and snapped her wrist again, bringing the weapon towards her where she controlled its flight and coiled it at her feet. Mina reached down and gently lifted the chain, marveling at its simple, yet infinitely efficient construction and use.

  “Mina.” Euri called, motioning for her to come and see the bole of the palm tree.

  The
Guisian Princess walked forward, holding the chain at her side, to investigate the damage she caused. There was a carved ring around the bole of the palm tree that had cut clean through the bark and laid bare the green trunk under it.

  “If it does that to a palm tree, imagine what it’ll do to skin.” Euri observed.

  Steeling herself up, Mina thought of the courage the father of her child selflessly displayed, his sisters’ mad desire to do her part and her grandmothers’ ceaseless fight to keep them all-safe. How could she, do any less?

  “When do we leave?” Mina asked in as brave a voice as she could muster.

  ~

  “The troops are ready my Lord.” Ubani, the Orc Legate reported.

  “Very good, Legate. Tomorrow morning I want you to start the march. Midsummer is only a month away and our siege must coincide with the time they are least ready for trouble.” Binos ordered.

  Traditionally, Midsummer Solstice was on the first day of summer. It marked everyone one year older and even the most ambitious business owners closed up their shops for the day. In every city, town and village between the Guisian shores and the Terum cliffs there would be great feasts and festivals. Bards would entertain the masses while each household donated a dish of their finest culinary efforts for the banquet that would culminate the festivities at sunset.

  Binos’ plan was ridiculous in its simplicity, by noon anyone not inebriated beyond even the most limited functionality would be either too young or too old to raise and effective defense. It was equally traditional for the ale makers, wineries and distilleries to debut their latest vintage at the festival, and more often than not tasting’s turned into heroic undertakings that were felt for days afterwards.

  The leader of the orc forces became lost in thought as he reviewed his battle plan and attempted to make allowances for setbacks. He formulated plans in his mind, trying to seek out all weaknesses and make alterations and adjustments as necessary to assure victory. He sat brooding for what must have been hours as the sun began to peak out over the horizon.

  “Hello my former pupil.” Petrus voice cut through the study.

  Binos sighed, turning in his chair to see his former master walking out of the shadows created by the rising sun. He was dressed in Deusian fashion, a long blood red robe concealing even his hands and feet, his deep hood pulled up over his head and his face obscured by the typical red leather mask. The only hint at his status on the Congress of Weavers was the extra chevron on his brow.

  “Lord Petrus.” He replied as evenly as he could. “To what do I owe the honor?”

  “Oh we both know you’re not honored by my measly presence.” Petrus replied, pulling his hood back. “But until such time as you’re on the Congress I suppose you think it prudent to act submissive.” He observed pulling the mask away.

  He was a man of middle years; he’d chosen to keep his white hair and beard trimmed close. Binos had heard tales of his acts for years while he was undergoing his training, the white hair and the pale purple eyes were the result of one or more spells of Petrus’ own invention coming to fruition. It was said that he could see through walls as easily as a man’s soul. He also possessed the gift of future sight, a gift that had earned him the extra chevron earlier than anyone before him. Binos silently wished to beat that record, his own twenty-four years of age made him the youngest master already and if he could deliver a victory for their chief cause; he would be elevated to the Congress in short order.

  “Very well.” Binos chuckled. “Allow me to be more direct; why are you here?” He asked.

  Petrus stepped forward and clasped his hands behind his back, as was his habit. He looked around the room, a recreation of its former self. Petrus had been here before of course, when Veronica Rhodes had been using this location as her base of operations for her Draconis’ Bane cult. She too had been quite ambitious and quite mad as well. The Congress had known all along of her bloodlines, though they had more faith that she despised her past. She had foolishly left her father, the great dragon Henjis, alive long after he’d ceased being useful.

  Binos watched his former master closely, attempting to sniff out any duplicity or betrayal. It wasn’t uncommon for the Congress to thrust a mission on a new master, and then subvert their designs in order to quell an ambitious young master rather than risk a rival. It also wasn’t unheard of for a master not on the Congress to assassinate, or arrange for the assassination of one of the twelve Weavers in order to speed along their ascension.

  “At the bequest of the Congress of Weavers, I have been sent to observe your progress.” Petrus admitted without falsehood. “While others on the council would use this opportunity to undermine your work, I will endeavor to aid you when possible.”

  Binos controlled his emotions masterfully; he fought the nearly uncontrollable urge to raise his eyebrows in shock. Also difficult to conceal were the suspicions that now formed at an alarming rate in his mind. While he didn’t trust his master anymore than any other sorcerer, he didn’t sense any envy or jealousy behind his cleverly chosen words.

  “Before I agree, I want something made clear.” Binos warned. “If you’re trying to steal the victory for yourself I will not hesitate to have one of my orcs tear you limb from limb.”

  “Doubt you, I do not.” Petrus replied. “It is of your orcs I wish to discuss.”

  Binos held up his hand as the Legate walked back into the room. If the orc noticed or cared that another human was in the room, he hid it quite well. He walked forward and halted in front of Binos’ desk to report.

  “The forces stand ready to march my Lord.” Ubani said.

  “Well done Ubani.” Binos complimented. “Begin the march, setup camp just outside of the Fortress of Bueir.” The Orc Legate beat his closed fist into his chest and bowed his head briefly, the typical orcish salute, before turning on his heel and stalking out of the room.

  Turning his attention back to his former master he asked; “What of them?”

  “You realize that after the dragons, elves and dwarves fall we mean to end the orcish threat as well?” Petrus asked.

  “Of course.” Binos answered.

  “And yet you make them stronger, breed them like cattle and thusly make them a grave danger to us all.” He accused.

  Binos held up a small vial filled with a dark amber liquid. “Do you know what this is?” He asked as he passed it over the desk.

  Petrus examined it for a moment, closing his eyes and muttering a simple spell of revelation. “Bitters?” He said uncertainly.

  “A little drop of this in their food or drink is all it takes. I’ve bred them all to be severely allergic to dandy lions; can you picture any of them picking a yellow flower to admire its beauty?” He asked sarcastically.

  ~

  Tristan and Beth sat amidst the hundreds of shelves full of thousands of books. The twenty elven librarians fetched them books of all kinds from the nearby shelves, piling them high on the reading desks that sat in the middle of the vast hall. Above them a canopy of branches and leaves formed a solid roof that still allowed sunshine in, but no rain or dew to breech and ruins the contents of this marvelous place. Each book was lovingly preserved in some elfish fashion Tristan didn’t fully comprehend.

  Even the dwarfish additions to their vast library were restored and preserved in an almost reverent ordeal. Tristan had never seen such contrast, from dwarf to elf, even the changing seasons didn’t have such clear distinction.

  However, the pair of them sat skimming through hundreds of tomes, books, scrolls and tablets, looking for some hint of the Morte Vaciu. None of the librarians could recall seeing or hearing of the work, though they had been hunting extensively among their shelves for any hint of it.

  Weeks ago the revelation that the elves couldn’t find the book he’d been obsessing over would have sunk Tristan spiraling down into a depression. Something in these woods contrived to keep his hopes alive, or he was finally coming to terms with the terrible truth; Maggie might not
be able to be saved. Whichever final outcome would come to pass, the Prince was concentrating on those who needed him.

  You’re lost in your thoughts again. Beth observed; looking over the tablet she was deciphering.

  “I’m starting to feel as though I’m on a hopeless quest.” Tristan admitted.

  The red haired woman stared at him for a long moment before replying. It’s a little soon to be giving up hope, isn’t it? She asked. We’ve assembled many pieces to the puzzle, and we merely need one more bit of information…surely your quest is not completely without hope.

  “Not without hope at all.”

  Tristan looked up from his book as the elven Queen walked into the library. She slowly made her way around the desks, looking around the room in what appeared to be (if Tristan judged elven facial expressions) fond memories. As if confirming his thoughts, the Queen sighed theatrically.

  “I miss this room.” She said wistfully. “If my brothers were still here, I would still be a simple librarian and historian.”

  “Where are they?” Tristan asked.

  “They have passed from this realm into the next.” She replied evenly. “But I do miss my reading, I find little time for it these days.” The Queen sighed theatrically as she came forward and stood before their table. She raised her eyebrows in question as she motioned to the free seat. “May I sit with you?”

  Tristan nodded, rising to pull the chair out for her. The Queen intercepted him with a wave, motioning for him to not bother. “We don’t often stand on ceremony outside our court.” She said with a warm smile.

  “The pair of you have been locked away in here for days.” The Queen observed. “Perhaps it’s time for us to come to an understanding.” She said calmly.

  An understanding? Beth asked skeptically.

  “Precisely.” The Queen answered directly. “What do you know of how we came to share your world?” She asked of Tristan.