Song Of Fury (Gods Of Blood And Fire Book 2)

by A. J. STRICKLER

  Stalking through the city, he sniffed the air searching for the scent of magic. The wind finally carried it to him. Following his acute senses, Kian quickly moved down the dark cobblestone streets of Gallio, his nose leading him to the Winking Widow Tavern. He should have known she would be there. Earlier in the day, he had agreed to meet K’xarr at the tavern and listen to what the witch had to say about the mercenary’s paternity. Kian had other plans for the sorceress now. He would make Gabrielle help him if she wanted to or not.

  He saw two women standing outside the tavern. He knew one was Gabrielle, and when the faint sent of cinnamon brushed his nose, he identified her companion, Scarlett. He would recognize the smell of the redhead’s magic anywhere. Kian thought Gabrielle must have summoned her to help explain the circumstances of K’xarr’s birth to her unruly son.

  Concealing himself behind the leather worker's shop across the street from the tavern, he watched as the two sorceresses greeted each other. When they went inside, he quickly followed.

  A small fire place burned at the far end of the great room where a joint of beef roasted, its fat dripping into the fire and causing it to sizzle. The succulent aroma filled the tavern, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten. Several men sat at a table, staring at the half-cooked meat and waiting for the short plump woman turning the spit to tell them it was ready. The only other patrons in the Winking Widow were his friends. He held back, taking in the scene before he approached the group.

  K’xarr, Cromwell, and Rhys sat at a round wooden table in the rear of the large room. K’xarr’s wounded leg was freshly bandaged and propped up in a chair. The blisters on his face were gone, but the skin was still red. Rhys had been at work, only his skill could have healed K’xarr’s burns so quickly. The healer’s eyes were red rimmed and empty as he stared down into his mug, seemingly uninterested in what was going around him. The physician sported bandages on both of his own legs, though Kian thought the pained expression on his face was due more to the loss of his sister than his wounds. Cromwell had numerous injuries that had been stitched up on his arms and neck, but the injuries were uncovered. Cromwell had never cared for bandages, he displayed his wounds with pride, a custom of his people.

  The witches were just about to seat themselves when K’xarr saw him standing in the shadows of the room. “Come on and sit with us, Kian. Where the hell is Endra? This tale might be of some interest to her as well,” K’xarr said, waving him over.

  It wasn’t hard to tell that the mercenary captain was deep in his cups.

  “I don’t know where Endra is, and I’m sorry, but I won’t be staying long. I just wanted to speak to one of the sorceresses. I would like their help finding out what happened to the children.”

  All the men at the table exchanged ominous glances. “She told you of little Vadin and the others?” Cromwell asked, his eyes downcast.

  “She did and I intend to deal with my son’s death in my own time. For now, I must seek those that are missing and may yet live. Endra may believe those priests, but they broke their oath to me. I trust nothing they say,” Kian snarled. He tried to hold his anger in check. It was difficult, for he could not understand why no one had gone after his little ones. Endra was too frightened and distraught, he at least could understand her excuse, but why the men at the table had sat idle was a mystery to him.

  “Before you go, let’s talk about what this woman claims and what we are going to do now,” K’xarr slurred.

  K’xarr was too drunk to see how angry he was, and Kian was in no mood to explain it to him. Slamming his hand down on the table, a low growl rattled from his chest. “Your ancestry is not of interest to me right now.”

  “Kian, wait, I can help you,” Scarlett said abruptly. The redheaded witch’s eyes told him she wasn’t oblivious to his outrage.

  “How can you help me, witch?”

  “I can take you to your children right now. I know exactly where they are.”

  Kian caught hold of Scarlett’s arm and jerked her out of her chair before she could say another word. “Then do so, now.” The pair shimmered and vanished from sight.

  K’xarr leaned back in his chair and finished his ale, slamming the drained mug down on the table. “I thought he would never leave. Now, Mother, let’s hear your story.”

  ***

  “So it’s you that caused my blood to be black?” K’xarr asked as he refilled his mug. Gabrielle was irritated that Scarlett had run off with the Slayer. She had promised to help her explain things to K’xarr. This was the first time she had ever attempted to enlighten one of her offspring.

  “Yes, all of my sisters possess the blood. It is I that passed the blood to you.”

  “Where does it come from, I mean, where did it originate?” K’xarr asked.

  The witch shook her head. This was what she had feared, and she would have to be very careful about what she said next. “Only the gods know the answer to that, but I can tell you of your true father,” she offered, trying to change the subject. “He was a Camiran named Ul’ran. He died in a raid shortly before you were born. He was a fine warrior, K’xarr, and a good man.”

  “Is that the reason you abandoned me, my father died?”

  Gabrielle took a sip of the wine in front of her, buying a little time before she answered. She didn’t think it would hurt to tell K’xarr some of the truth, though she would have to tread lightly. “Your father’s death had nothing to do with why I gave you away. You were a male child. We do not keep male children, only females and then only if they possess the gift of magic. Though I find it barbaric, it is our way.”

  K’xarr took a big swallow of ale. He seemed confused. “So you only keep female children who are born witches like yourselves?”

  “Yes, and it is very rare for any of us to have a child that has the power. When we do, we keep them and nurture their talents, teaching them how to control and use what they have been blessed with.”

  “How many times has it happened that any of you have had one of these children?” Rhys asked without looking at her.

  “Few, but all of our daughters born like us were put to death by the gods themselves,” Gabrielle said sorrowfully.

  They looked at her in disbelief. “I don’t think you are telling us the entire story…Mother. Why would the gods kill a child just because they were born a witch?”

  She didn’t want to tell the whole tale and Raven would kill her if she mentioned Delilah. Gabrielle knew the truth would betray her sisters, but she had grown weary of all the secrets. Her desires had been stolen from her by the circumstances of her birth. She had a chance now, a chance to win her son’s affection.

  The witch thought of all the children she had lost though the passing centuries, aging and dying without her ever having the chance to love them or have her love returned. It needed to end. “I will tell you what I can. No mortal knows any of this, and I put my life at great risk telling you. The gods will never allow there to be thirteen of us. When our number has exceeded more than ten, the youngest of us is put to death. You see, there is a prophecy. We know little of it, only that if ever there are thirteen witches, who are all of age and in possession of their full powers, it is foretold that a great doom will befall the gods. It is the reason we have been culled like sheep all our lives. Any daughter born to us that possessed magic was slaughtered before our very eyes as soon as the gods learned of their existence. Only the ten sisters, the ten Sins if you will, are allowed to endure.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why you discard your other offspring, at least not to me,” K’xarr said coldly.

  Gabrielle swallowed hard, the plight of her and her sister was difficult for her to talk about. “Can’t you see, son? Any child born without our power we would have to watch grow old and die. That is the real reason we abandon our other children. Your lives are so short, they seem to pass in the blink of an eye. You can’t know the heartache of outliving all of your children, so we give them away so they can live normal lives. The
only trace left to them of our existence is our blood.”

  “Then why did you give yourself away? You could have helped us without revealing that I’m you son,” K’xarr said, raising his hands in the air.

  “I have come to the conclusion that a brief time with my child is better than no time at all.”

  K’xarr scratched his head. “In all this time, none of you have ever kept a daughter with your power?”

  “No, we have not been able to keep any hidden from the gods long enough for them to reach adulthood. All were killed before they reached eighteen.”

  “So, if Raven is your sister, that makes her K’xarr’s aunt, right?” Cromwell said, looking to Gabrielle with his forehead furrowed in thought.

  “Yes, she is my half-sister and K’xarr’s aunt, but incest in our family is not uncommon. In fact, it is usually our way. Traditionally, it is frowned on for us to breed with mortals. The gods don’t like the outcome,” she said, glancing around the table. “As you know, our blood makes humans into something more than what they should be. Your skill at arms and your physical prowess are superior to that of normal humans.”

  “Are we immortal?” Cromwell asked with a child’s wonderment.

  Gabrielle laughed in spite of herself. “My heavens, no. You are far from immortal and the way you are going, neither of you will live a full span anyway.”

  “Why don’t you fight the gods, if you're immortal? How can you just stand by and let them slaughter your young?” K’xarr said, finding his voice.

  “We aren’t gods; we don’t have the power to stand against them. Like you, one of our parents was a mortal. All of us have different mothers, except for the twins Sky and Star.”

  “Who is your father then?” K’xarr asked.

  Before Gabrielle could answer, the air shimmered and the witch Selena stood beside their table. Covered from head to toe in a black cloak, all they could see was her frowning face. “Raven sent me, Gabrielle. You were warned. Now come with me, you have told the savages quite enough.”

  Gabrielle glared at the cloaked woman. “I am done taking orders, sister. By the way, Cromwell, this is your mother.”

  Selena’s eyes flashed with anger and she glared at Gabrielle. “You go too far.”

  Cromwell slowly stood and moved towards the woman who had been named his mother.

  Selena held up her hand. “Don’t come near me, animal. If I wanted anything to do with you, I would not have left you with the Torans. In hindsight, I should have pitched you off the top of our tower the moment you burst from my womb.”

  Cromwell's massive shoulders slumped at the witch’s cruel rejection as he stood awkwardly before the witch.

  Selena grinned wolfishly. “Will the mighty Toran Bull cry now because his mommy doesn’t love him?”

  Gabrielle stood up, kicking her chair back. “You are a callous and hateful woman, sister. Tell Raven I will do as I please, she has no control over me.”

  “So be it, your fate will be your own.” The witch vanished, leaving a scorched smell in the air.

  Gabrielle touched Cromwell on the shoulder. “Try to forgive her. Selena had a daughter once that was destroyed by the gods, and she has not been the same since.”

  Cromwell patted the witch’s hand. “At least I have an aunt and a cousin,” he said, glancing at K’xarr and easing himself down into a chair. “To hell with my bitch mother anyway, I am too old to have any need her now.”

  Gabrielle took a deep breath. She could see the Toran was hurt. “I would tell you about your father, nephew, but I don’t even know who he was.”

  Cromwell waved at her and grunted. “Doesn’t matter. He was Toran, that’s all that’s important.”

  “I must go now, K’xarr, but I will return.”

  K’xarr’s expression was unreadable when she looked into his eyes. “You didn’t answer my question. Who is your father?”

  Gabrielle reached out and touched his dark hair. Smiling sadly, she vanished.

  ***

  When morning came, they buried Rachael on a small hill overlooking the sea. Rufio had chosen the spot. The Dragitan’s eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and he smelled like smoke. It wasn’t hard to see he had not slept, and he still wore the bloody clothing from the battle the day before. Achillus had ordered an honor guard made up of the city watch to escort the wagon bearing Rachael’s body to the location Rufio had requested.

  Morgana, Rhys, and Rufio were in front of the wagon and K’xarr, Cromwell, and Endra followed along behind. K’xarr still limped, but Rhys had seen to his wounds again before the sun rose and the pain was bearable now.

  Once Rachael was placed in the ground, everyone headed back to town except Rufio. He stayed alone at the grave to mourn the woman that would have been his wife. Cromwell all but carried Morgana. For a woman heavy with child and heartbroken, the hill was too much.

  “We should have been attending their wedding, not…this,” Rhys said, his voice breaking with emotion.

  “Aye, it is a hard thing. Sometimes the life we live carries a heavy price,” K’xarr said, trying to sound caring.

  “Well, I don’t want anyone to ever pay for the path I have chosen. Not ever again.” Rhys wiped his eyes.

  K’xarr said nothing more, he didn’t want to lose his healer and he knew he was not too good at comforting people.

  “What will you do now, Rhys?” Endra quietly asked.

  “I don’t know,” the healer answered quickly, walking ahead of them.

  Endra patted K’xarr on the back. “He is in pain, give him time.”

  “I know he is hurt. I told him to send them back home to Tara, but he didn’t listen to me and now he has buried one of them.”

  “I know something of what he feels. The loss of my children will haunt me forever. I will never be the same woman I was.”

  K’xarr had completely forgotten about Kian. “By the gods, I am sorry, Endra, I didn’t tell you sooner. Kian left last night with the witch Scarlett. She claimed to know the whereabouts of your little monsters.”

  Endra stopped dead in her tracks. “They live?”

  “Aye, at least that is what the witch said, if you can trust her word.”

  Endra gave him a desperate look and grabbed his arm. “Oh, K’xarr, what have I done?”

  When they returned, Gabrielle was waiting on the outskirts of the city. The others walked past, leaving mother and son alone on the street. “I am sorry for your loss, son,” she said softly.

  K’xarr nodded. “There is no reason for you to stay now. I thank you for the truth, but I don’t need a mother now. That time has long past.”

  She smiled at him, teary-eyed. “I do love you, K’xarr. I have loved all my children.”

  “I wish I could say the same, I hope you didn’t come here for that. I have no love to give you…Mother.”

  She looked very hurt. She hugged him and he allowed her the courtesy, but didn’t return her display of affection. “If I can help you, K’xarr, you need but to ask.”

  He rubbed his beard and closed one eye. “I could use a little help finding out what the army in the north is up to and how many they number.”

  She sighed. “Of course, I will find out what I can. I shall return soon.”

  “I will be waiting,” K’xarr said with a half-grin.

  Gabrielle shimmered and was gone.

  K’xarr thought having a witch for a mother might not be all bad.

  Kian stood at the palace gates while Scarlett went inside to make his presence known to the queen. He kept the hood of his cloak up to shield his identity from the guardsmen. He wanted to insure that his visit caused the queen no trouble.

  The damage from the civil war and the Abberdonian invasion had all but disappeared. The queen’s residence showed little of the ruin from the last time he was there. It looked like the gardens and grounds had been replanted, and the damage from the fire had all but disappeared. Within a few years, the palace grounds would once again be heralded as one of
the most beautiful places in Saree. The little queen was a miracle worker to have gotten this much work done so quickly.

  Coming to the front gate was something new for him, and he hoped the queen wouldn’t be too upset. She had always had him enter from the back when possible and he understood her reasons very well. No matter what he had done for Bandara, he was still considered a half-breed. To most humans, there was nothing worse. The queen’s nobles would not look kindly on their monarch fraternizing with a half-elven warrior, even if he did help save their kingdom.

  His thoughts of the past were interrupted by a woman running down the long path from the palace. Her boots clicked on the cobblestone walk as she dashed towards him. Her wavy blonde hair bounced as she quickly covered the distance between the palace and the gate. The patch over her eye and missing right hand gave her identity away before she reached him.

  Isabella quickly ordered the guards to open the gate. The young woman smiled as she pulled her hair behind her ears while she waited. He noticed that since last he had seen her, the former handmaiden had grown into a remarkably lovely woman. When the gate opened, Isabelle threw her arms around his neck and hugged him like a long lost brother. “Follow me,” she said, taking his hand. The guards closed the gate behind them as the two headed to the palace.

  Royal guardsmen opened the great doors to the throne room as Kian entered, Isabella at his side. The queen sat on the famed Phoenix Throne looking very regal, her face devoid of emotion. “Leave us,” she commanded the royal guardsmen who stood positioned along the walls. The throne room was immaculate as always, covered in the red and gold colors of Bandara. He saw the queen had marble pews placed in the throne room, which Kian assumed were for her nobles to sit while she held court, and a huge red banner hung from the ceiling, a golden phoenix emblazoned proudly on it.