Janrae Frank Dark - [Dark Brothers of the Light 08] - Blood Hope

by Blood Hope [lit]

  "It's all right, he said. It's all right."

  "Ball... she said, pointing.

  "I'll get it."

  "I'll be damned, Nevin muttered. I didn't even see her."

  "Give me a second. Stygean retrieved the ball. His back ached from Nevin's last blow, but he ran gamely. When he returned, he placed the ball in her hands with a smile and she smiled back. Stygean felt warm all the way to the tips of his toes as he returned to his mentor.

  "You did good, boy, Nevin said.

  Stygean grew even warmer. Thank you."

  Farris came running up and lifted the child into her arms. My baby. Thank you, Stygean. She bent and kissed his forehead chastely.

  Stygean flushed and all the warmth drained out of him in shame. She's your baby?"

  "Yes. My youngest."

  "Oh. Well I am glad she's all right. Very glad. Had Stygean been given his blooding day gift of Farris's life on the altar of mortgiefan, that tiny little girl would have had no mother, just as he had no mother. He thought of how he used Farris at night under the noses of their captors, how he humiliated her. The sense of shame burned deeper. I am sa'necari ... I am sa'necari ... I should not feel this way. What is wrong with me?

  Nevin came up to him. Call it a day. Go down to Randilyn and tell her I said to give you some of that liniment I had them make up. Have someone rub it into your bruises and back good."

  Stygean smiled, recovering a bit. Nevin had never offered him his liniment before. I will."

  Walking to Randilyn's tent, the sound of Isranon's flute drew the boy to the edge of camp. He reached the last wagon and hesitated, knowing that he could get into a lot of trouble for stepping into the forest. The beating that Jun had administered to him still lingered in Stygean's thoughts. Putting his hand upon the back edge of the wagon, Stygean looked out, searching for a glimpse of Isranon.

  The music continued to call to him, and Stygean decided to creep forward. He dropped to his knees and crawled beneath a low hanging evergreen. Stygean got as close to Isranon as he dared and settled cross-legged, listening blissfully.

  Isranon finished the song, lowered the flute to his lap, and gazed directly at Stygean's hiding place. Come out, Stygean."

  The boy crept forth. You knew I was here?"

  "Low level scan. Isranon regarded him with a smile. You like the sound?"

  "Yes. Could you teach me?"

  "I could."

  "Would you if I got a flute?"

  "I would. However, you must realize that if you cross the line in the rites, you will never enjoy the flute again."

  "Why not?"

  "Because it is the music of life in the wildwoods. The deeper a sa'necari becomes in the rites, the more painful the music becomes to their ears."

  "I still want a flute."

  * * * *

  Jingen finished his chores and watched Jun ride away with a group of others heading for the next village.

  He went in search of Nolly and found her.

  "Come, Nolly. It is time, he whispered to her.

  Jingen was certain that he had placed his coercions too deeply to be found by Jun.

  Nolly's eyes glazed and she followed him to the tent he shared with Stygean.

  He indicated his bedding, First position."

  Once she was nude, Jingen studied her for bruises from Jun's feeding. Her heart fluttered like a trapped bird's. She knew what he was doing and what his ultimate intentions were, but his bindings in her mind prevented her from betraying himor resisting.

  There was a darkened bruise on her left breast. That looked promising. Jun apparently wanted to get a taste as close to her heart's blood as possible. Jingen marked the bruise with his finger so that he could find it without looking, and then covered it with his mouth, driving his fangs into her in the same spot as Jun had. He pulled his finger out and began to suck.

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  CHAPTER TEN

  NOLLY

  They camped for the night on the outskirts of a fishing village called Miller's Cove. The inhabitants had refused to go north with the Sacred King, because they were under the protection of the Naiads of the Hillora River and felt secure.

  Nans came to Isranon that morning as he was going over some of Stygean's lessons. You must come down to the banks. The Naiads wish to meet you."

  "Naiads? Isranon replied. Why?"

  Stygean's head came up and he listened to them.

  "Because they have heard of you. They wish to meet the sa'necari Renunciate who has found favor with Kalirion."

  "This could be a way of spreading my teachings, of allowing them to see that not all of my people are evil. I will come. Isranon rose using his staff. His gait was off a bit and Stygean wondered what might be wrong with him.

  "Can I come too? Stygean asked.

  "Yes, Isranon replied. Be on your best manners."

  "I will be, Stygean said. His thoughts whirred as he tried to guess what they would look like. As the three of them started through the camp toward the riverbank, Jingen appeared.

  "Where are you going? Jingen asked, falling in beside Stygean.

  "To meet the Naiads."

  Jingen grinned. I want to come too. May I? he called to Isranon.

  Isranon paused and looked back at the two boys. Don't you have chores, Jingen?"

  Jingen lowered his head. Yes, but I may never get another chance like this one. I will work twice as hard afterward. I promise."

  Isranon glanced from boy to boy. Very well, but mind your manners. The impression the three of us give the Naiads will affect all of our kind."

  They both nodded and followed the adults to the riverbank. Nans brushed aside the branches of a willow and three females stepped from beneath its veiling curtain. Stygean stared hard at them. Their pale hair had tints of blue, green, and periwinkle. His adolescent eyes were drawn to their well-formed breasts and wide hips, and then down to the mounds between their thighs outlined by their damp, clinging garments of river silk. They appeared to be covered in tiny scales like fish, except for their faces, necks, and palms of their hands. Stygean abruptly realized that he had been holding his breath and let it out in a long exhalation.

  Jingen jabbed an elbow into Stygean's ribs and whispered, Close your mouth. Aren't they something! I'd like to have one of them."

  Stygean nodded. He had already missed the first few interchanges between the adults because of his reactions.

  "So you are teaching them the ways of the Dark Brothers? the Naiad who appeared to be the leader asked.

  "No, Isranon replied. I am teaching them something new. I call it the Middle Path. I am the last of the Dark Brothers. The sa'necari killed them all because they refused to defend themselves. It takes two sides to make a war, but only one to make a massacre when the other refuses to fight back. That is what happened to the Dark Brothers of the Light. It is not enough to reject the Darkness, but one must also defend against it."

  "You are wise beyond your years, Dawnreturning, the Naiad leader said to him.

  Stygean winced. Dawnreturning's philosophy of peaceful thinking and strong action seemed like a contradiction to Stygean. No matter how much he thought about it, he could still not make sense of it. Yet Isranon and his people had defeated Stygean's father, destroyed a tribe of imps, and burnt Linder's Meadow to the ground. There had to be a lie there, but Stygean could not find it. Everything the mon said was true.

  "We have interdicted the Hillora. Nothing crosses it except at the Fords or in the far north where the river runs shallow and close to the banks, the Naiad said. However we suspect that something on wings has crossed it."

  "Nekaryiane, Nans said.

  Isranon nodded, a twist of his mouth betraying the uneasiness of his momentary reflections. I would assume so. We thank you for your warning."

  The Naiad extended her hand to her guards and one of them placed a large blue-violet conch that shimmered like the light on the waters in Isranon's hands. If you ever have need of us while
you are near to water, sound the horn. We will answer."

  Stygean could not believe what he was seeing and hearing. The Naiads were honoring a sa'necari. One of his own kind. No! No, they were honoring a Renunciate ... a heretic. This could not be. And yet, Dawnreturning was the only one of his kind who could have taken him to see the Naiads. Normally these river women only rose from the depths to kill sa'necari, not to speak with them. Stygean felt a painful confusion squirming around inside him, making his stomach tighten.

  When they returned to camp, Stygean dragged his feet and fell further behind than he intended to. Jingen walked beside him. Wouldn't you have loved to get your fangs into one of them? Jingen asked. And other things as well? He laughed, grabbed his crotch, and made quick humping motions.

  Stygean thought of Farris and her daughter, and drew back from Jingen. Is that all you think about?"

  "It's the only worthwhile one. Jingen grinned.

  Stygean quickened his step and Jingen caught him by the elbow, holding him back. Let go, Stygean snarled.

  Jingen frowned and released him. I think you're too easy to awe. You're weak.

  Stygean stopped walking, folded his arms, and glared, his lower lip thrusting out. I am not."

  Jingen gazed contemptuously at him, one hand on his hip and the faint twist of a sneer on his lips. Then drain one to the edge or dry. I dare you."

  "I would never get away with it."

  Jingen's sneer spread along his mouth into fullness. You would if you mimic the vampires Passion-Dance. There's enough of them here to cast blame in a dozen directions. Let me tell you how to do it."

  "Only if you do one also, Stygean replied defensively, remembering his father's words that Jingen was not to be trusted; and yet he felt himself being backed into a corner. Stygean did not wish to appear weak before Jingen, knowing his friend's predilections and opinionsopinions their parents had held before the fall of their estates.

  Jingen flashed his fangs, a sudden glow of triumph lighting his face. I already am. Haven't you noticed how tired Nolly is all the time?"

  Nans reappeared, having noticed the boys were not following them. Don't dawdle. You've got chores."

  "Yes, General, Stygean said and ran to catch up with the others.

  * * * *

  Isranon walked into his tent in the center of the circling camp, and sat down in one of the chairs at his broad command table. He brushed aside the maps he had been looking at earlier and folded his arms on a bare space before pressing his face into them. Phantom pain in his chest and stomach echoed the grinding ache in the rest of his body. His right leg, which had been wounded by the five sa'necari who had tried to butcher him just over a year ago, had sharp pains running through it from the upper thigh to the knee.

  Nans came in and settled into a folding chair. You're hurting again. I can see by how you're walking."

  Isranon nodded, lifting his head up and then letting it tilt exhaustedly to the side. I had another attack last night...."

  "You're supposed to tell someone when this happens, Nans scolded, wagging a finger at him.

  Isranon closed his eyes for a moment. It wasn't that bad. I'm never going to be free of them. The pain will always be with me. So long as I can deal with it, why call people's attention to it? He paused between each sentence as if finding it difficult to speak.

  "Because we care about you? Nans replied, putting her hand over his.

  Pride straightened the weary angle of his shoulders. How many would follow me north to fight, if they knew how bad off I am?"

  Nans could think of nothing to say at first. I'm simply their general. You are their symbol, Isranon. Their inspiration. They will follow you regardless. She watched to see if her words had gotten through and then added, You do not need to keep pushing yourself this way."

  Isranon changed the subject, catching upon a single piece of her words. I am not a monster...."

  Nans hands tightened upon his own. You will never be a monster."

  Nevin joined them. Isranon, some of the villagers are here. They have heard that you can heal and they have some sick children. Would you take a look at them?"

  Isranon pushed from the table and stood. Nans sprang to his side as he swayed and slid her arm around his shoulders to steady him. Should you be doing this? she asked. I can handle most matters like this."

  Isranon knew that Nans had basic healer training with herbs and such, but she was not a lifemage or even a Mender; and if this was very bad, only he could deal with it.

  Nevin put Warrior in Isranon's hands and the young mage leaned heavily upon it as he emerged from the tent. Six villagers waited in front. A rough sided wagon, with bits of straw showing around the upper edges, stood closest to him. An older mon sat on the seat with the reins of the horses in his hands, and another mon, a female, stood near it with hopeful eyes. Four more stood around behind it.

  The woman standing beside the cart came to him and knelt, grasping his hand. Please, help the children."

  "I will, Isranon said. Not all things can be healed, not all lives can be saved, but if it is within my power to do so, I will."

  * * * *

  Thoughts of the Naiads still circled through Stygean's mind as he walked into the center of the camp.

  "Wait up!"

  Stygean paused and saw Jingen trotting toward him. The sight of Jingen brought back their discussion of taking a life. What do you want?"

  Jingen grinned, slipping his arm around Stygean's shoulders. Have you decided which one you want? I'm going to be picking another soon. I'll be finished with Nolly in a day or two."

  Stygean stiffened and then pulled away from him. I like Nolly. I wish you wouldn't do this."

  Jingen snarled softly. She's nibari ... they are all wine cups to be drained and tossed away."

  "Jingen...."

  In answer, Jingen seized Stygean and jerked him off balance, dragging him staggering into a narrow space between two wagons. You're not going soft? I thought you said you were sa'necari? Maybe you should ask Haig or Jun to pull your fangs out, since you don't know how to use them."

  Stygean felt his muscles squirming under his skin with tension. I'll do it. I swear I'll do it."

  "Yeah, right, the cattle is going to do it, Jingen sneered. Then his head came up and he pointed to the center. What's going on?"

  Stygean slipped through the small crowd that had gathered there and stopped beside Randilyn. What's he doing?"

  Randilyn put her arm around his shoulders and hugged him. Dawnreturning is healing the children."

  Stygean's eyes widened and he thought of his father. A rainbow aura surrounded Isranon as he caressed the suffering face of a young boy Stygean's age. The boy was moaning on the ground, where they had moved him to. Stygean's eyes narrowed. Taking a chance that no one would notice, he extended his arcane sensessenses attuned to death and dying, designed to suck in the fragrance and essence of it.

  Jingen edged his way to Stygean's side, his eyes glinting with pleasure as he sucked in the air through wide nostrils. He nudged Stygean with a feral grin.

  Stygean turned away from Jingen, pressing closer against Randilyn. Whatever was wrong with those childrenand it smelled like a sicknessthey were dying.

  The rainbow aura surrounding the Renunciate mage intensified as he knelt beside the first boy. Isranon lifted the child into his arms and cradled him, wrapping his arm with the staff around the boy's back. Stygean shivered as the magic swept out. The boy's scent changed and color returned to his pale skin. Stygean suppressed a gasp. Dawnreturning had healed the boy. One by one, Isranon cured each child with an embrace.

  Stygean felt deeply shaken and uncertain, wondering about the night that Dawnreturning and Amiri had helped his father. Had it been Amiri or Dawnreturning that kept his father from dying that night? He's sa'necari. He can't be doing this. It's an illusion. It has to be. None of this is possible.... And yet....

  Stygean pulled free of Randilyn and fled. Jingen followed, grinning.
>
  * * * *

  Three days later, Isranon sat making notes in his journal. They would move on tomorrow, leaving the village behind. Isranon looked up as Jun entered, carrying a limp, small body in his arms, with tears streaming down his face. Isranon sprang to his feet and went to Jun. Instinct send his hand out to touch the body in the vampire's arms and confirm the death, even though his eyes could see it and his arcane senses taste it.

  "Nolly's dead, Jun wept, his lips drawn back from his teeth in a grimace born of sorrow. He kept shaking his head in a blend of anger and denial. I didn't do it. I swear I didn't do it. I know how to restrain my feedings. Some asshole bastard danced her."

  Lividity had set in, leaving the upper half of Nolly's body pale and the lower blue. She was nude. Isranon noticed the white stickiness coating Nolly's pubic hairs. He parted her thighs and slipped his finger inside her vagina, pulling it forth with the pastiness of drying male juices. He focused on it, extending his awareness into the genetic material he had pulled from her. If the hemovore who had fucked her had also been the one who killed her, then it was sa'necari. It was not you, Jun. A vampire did not do this, unless they were very recently risen. The seed is from a living mon."

  "Stygean. Jun scowled deeply, sending a blood flush over his face. He murdered my Nolly."

  Isranon sighed. His heart felt heavy. Or one of the blood-slaves did. There are too many to start passing blame without proof. Place her on my bed, then fetch Amiri. We'll crystal the genetic samples and try for a match, but it won't be easy with so many."

  Jun obeyed and Isranon was left to brood alone. He did not want it to be Stygean. The boy drew him. Isranon saw a reflection of his younger self in the boy's patterns of defiance. Defiance had colored Isranon's childhood and his teen years: defiance of his own kind, defiance of what he feared, defiance of death and all dangers that presented themselves. Isranon had been nearly a year younger than Stygean when his parents were murdered as heretics by sa'necari. He felt for the boy, yet sometimes he wondered if those feelings were misplaced, as Haig insisted they might be, and Jun believed they were.