Brothers of Blood (Fall of a King Book 2)

by James Fuller

  There was a light knock at his door and he knew she had come to retrieve him for training. When he opened the door, he was greeted with a bright smile and a poke to the midsection with a carved walking stick.

  Meath looked down at the stick. “What is the stick for?”

  Tabitha grinned. “I am glad you asked. I have decided to change up our scenery today, in the hope that a new location might better inspire you.”

  Meath cocked a brow. “And where might this new location be?”

  “I do not see how that is of any concern of yours,” she teased.

  Meath could not help but laugh. “Well, seeing as how you have a pack with you, I have to assume you plan on marching me across Salvas.”

  “Ah, I almost forgot.” She unstrung the pack and handed it to him. “You would not let a small girl carry this heavy pack on our hike, would you?”

  Meath took the pack and strung it across his shoulders; there was hardly any weight to it at all. “I would not dream of such a thing.” He rolled his eyes, jokingly. “Lead the way.” He smiled and she began down the hallway.

  He was still not able to call upon his Gift to heal at will. It had been the hope that the plot with Kara would spark something within him, to be able to draw upon that part of his powers more easily, but it had not. If anything, it had hindered him, for every time he tried to focus on healing he would lose his concentration, remembering what they had done to Kara.

  Tabitha led the way east out of the village, into a denser, wooded area. The conifer trees that lightly encompassed the village began to slowly switch to their thicker, more abundant cousins more commonly found in thick jungle. Soon, they came to a fork in the pathway; the one on the right looked well used and went back around to the southern side of the village. The left was nearly overgrown and continued northeast, at an upwards slope, to the cliff tops.

  He did not need to guess which path they would take and they began their way through the obliterated trail. Soon, their pace was slowed as the slope became steeper. The trees began thinning as the ground became harder with more rock than dirt – it crumbled and shattered under their feet, making it difficult to walk evenly. Soon though, they were above the tree line and cresting the top of the cliff, where nearly all of Salvas could be seen. A strange feeling tingled up his back, making the hairs on his arms and neck stand on end.

  They continued along the pathway and worked their way through giant granite boulders and sheets of multi-colored slate - it was almost like walking through a gorge, painted in shades of stone. Meath stopped and ran his hand across the rough edge of a boulder thrice the height of a man. It was an impressive sight.

  Soon they were free of the clutter of imposing rocks and were back on open ground.

  Tabitha stopped in front of a massive dark cave. “Here we are.” She looked into the depths of the cave and shivered.

  Meath tore his eyes away from the beautiful view below and stopped in front of the cave entrance. He could feel a strange aura around the place. “What is this place?”

  “This is where it all began, Meath. This was the lair of the first dragon ever killed by man and where the first human received the Gift,” Tabitha replied, her voice awed and full of worship.

  Meath took a step towards the cave, inspecting the sheer size of the entrance. “They must have been huge creatures,” he whispered, running his fingers along the rock where it had been worn away by the beast’s powerful claws. The cave dipped down at a slight angle before dropping away, and seemed to go down to the very center of the cliff side.

  “They are, Meath,” Tabitha replied. “There is a certain aura here that you can feel all around you. I thought bringing you here would help clear your mind of all that is cluttering it.”

  Meath stepped inside and his breath was nearly sucked from his lungs as the power of the place engulfed him, sending a queer lightheaded sensation through his entire body. He could feel each beat of his heart and tingling as his blood was pushed through his veins. He did not even feel Tabitha pull him out again.

  “Meath, are you okay?” Her voice tipped with concern.

  Meath blinked several times and shook his head to clear it. “I... I am fine. What happened?” He soon realized he was sitting and slowly got to his feet.

  “I am not sure,” Tabitha admitted. “They say the power of the cave affects everyone differently. It is dangerous and it is why no one is allowed in the cave without the right protection.”

  “It was amazing,” Meath whispered as he stared into the cave in awe. “What do you mean the right protection?”

  “Zada has an artifact that, if you hold, will allow you into the cave without being overwhelmed by its power,” She explained. “And no, before you ask, she will not lend it to you. The cave is dangerous - had you gone in any further you might have died.”

  Meath turned back to the cliff edge and once more, his breath nearly escaped him at the pure beauty before him. “Tabitha, can I trust you?”

  “What?” She asked confused. “I just saved your life - does that not count for anything?” She teased, not realizing the magnitude of his question.

  “That is not the kind of trust I am asking about.”

  She stepped closer to him, concerned once more. “What is it you are asking of me, Meath?”

  “Who was Thane, really?” He asked, not turning to look at her. Stefan had told him about Thane and his paternal link. It had been hard for him to believe at first - Thane was over a thousand years old, but the druid had explained how Thane and his mother Zada had lived for so long. He knew the question was a daring one and knew what she would say, if she meant to lie to him.

  “I do not understand, Meath - you know who Thane was. He was the first man to...” She stopped herself as if the very words caught in her throat. “No, I will not do this. I will not keep the truth from you. Thane was your father, Meath.”

  Meath finally turned to face her, locking on her brilliant blue eyes. “How can that be possible when he would be over a thousand years old before I was even born?”

  “I know it is a hard thing to grasp, but it is true. Have you ever wondered why those with the Gift seem to live so much longer than others and why they seem to stay a score of years younger than truth? Not to suffer many of the same ailments as they get older? It is because of the dragon’s blood that is passed down to them from their gifted parents. Thane and Zada both have lived for over a millennium. Those who were first to drink of dragon’s blood were blessed with extraordinarily long life. They aged one year for every fifty.”

  Even though Stefan had told him the same thing, it nearly overwhelmed his mind to hear again. “Then there must be others who are equally as old…from that time?”

  “I have heard there are still a few alive, but they have hidden themselves,” Tabitha explained.

  “Why are they in hiding and not here, within Salvas?” Meath questioned, though he already knew the answer.

  “I was not alive when it happened…but there was a struggle for power shortly after you and Astaroth were born. It almost destroyed Salvas from within. Your father was killed by some of the very people he had known for over a thousand years. Many were killed in that struggle for power, others fled to only the Creator knows where, and the rest worked out their differences and are still among us here.” He looked at her quietly for a few moments.

  “Thank you,” Meath finally said as he turned back to look down at the world below.

  “For what, Meath?”

  “For telling me the truth,” Meath replied.

  Tabitha stepped closer to him and looked deeply into his eyes. “I will never lie to you, Meath.” Her hand gently touched his arm. “I hope you know that.”

  Meath nearly lost himself with deepness of her blue eyes, as he had lost himself so many times in Nicolette’s. The thought of her pulled him out and he stepped back, a stitch of guilt coursing through him. “I should begin practicing,” he whispered as he pulled his eyes away.

  T
abitha’s fingers lingered only a moment longer before she pulled them away. “Yes, you are right.”

  It was early evening and the air was already beginning to cool as the sun began its leisurely descent behind the eastern mountains. Meath followed the path that lead to the archive, surprised that he had been summoned there by Zada. A small itch of worry propelled his steps as he wondered if Stefan had gotten in trouble for all that he had shared with him. If it was true, then he knew Tabitha could no longer be trusted. The thought of it twisted his guts and he prayed the nature of this summoning was for a different matter.

  Meath came upon the doorway and Zada stood waiting for him. She wore a simple silken yellow dress that gleamed even in the shadowy half-light of the trees around them, almost emanating its own glow.

  “You wanted to see me?” Meath said, slightly awkward. This had been the first time he and his mother had been alone in some time and he was still bitter over what had happened to Kara. Even though Kara had assured him it was all right, it would not be something he forgave easily.

  Her smile was genuine and inviting. “Thank you for coming so swiftly. I feared that due to our last encounter, you may choose to refuse.”

  “Somehow, I doubt refusing would have made a difference.”

  Zada bowed slightly, as if accepting what was said as a compliment. “Normally you would be correct - as Lady of Salvas my authority is absolute and I will accept no impertinence - but this time it is a personal matter, one of family…a mother’s duty to uphold a father’s wishes. In knowing this, if you have no desire to proceed, I will understand and you may go without chastisement.”

  Meath almost wanted to walk away in spite, yet he could not deny the yearning he felt to know what she meant by ‘family matter’. He had never thought he would ever meet anyone of his own blood; he had accepted the fact. Now that he knew the truth, he could not deny himself the chance to know what awaited him. “I will stay.”

  She pushed the door to the archives open and Meath followed. The main room to the archive was empty. They made their way down a side corridor to a carving of two great dragon sires, locked in lethal combat. Zada place the stone of her ring into the heart of one of the beasts and turned it, a soft click echoed through the hallway and the wall began to slide, separating the two sides and revealing an ancient granite staircase.

  “You and Thane owe me nothing,” Meath stated, as they began down the stairwell. “I do not consider you as my parents.” Meath noticed her head turn slightly at the mention of Thane.

  “I am glad you know Thane was your father. I have been meaning to tell you and much more but we have… not seen eye to eye since your arrival. I am hoping that at some point that will all change. I understand it will take time, but know I am always here and I do care, more than you could ever truly know.” She sighed. “I know I cannot change the past. I cannot give you the years back that you should have had,” she swallow the growing lump in her throat, “I just hope I can be part of the years to come.”

  They came to the bottom of the stairs where it opened up into a large stone room. Two sets of giant pillars lined the room near the center, holding the massive weight of the archives above. Cluttered tables, shelves and cabinets lined one half of the room while the other wall held weapon and armor racks.

  “This room holds some of the oldest relics to survive the passing of time.” She stopped and ran her hand over a particular square, bronze-plated shield. “It also holds some of the most powerfully enchanted items the world has ever known; many crafted and created by Thane himself.”

  “It seems odd to have such tools at your disposal and not use them,” Meath commented while admiring the unique weapons that lined the wall, many of design he had never seen before.

  “Astaroth once said the same thing.” Zada stopped in front of a wooden mannequin dressed in damaged leather armor. “This was your father’s - he wore it the day he went to fight the great beast and avenge Sorin, your first brother.” Her hand rested gently upon the breastplate above the heart, her eyes sparkling with memories passed. “He was once a great man, Meath. I wish you would have been able to meet that man.”

  Meath could feel the building of emotion and could not help but feel a pang of regret himself at the thought he would never know his real father. It had never been something he had thought much about before. “How did he die?” The words slipped from his mouth before he even realized he had spoken them.

  “It was only a handful of years ago now. The mood of many in Salvas was growing dark as direction and leadership was being questioned. Salvas was created as a safe haven for those with the Gift - protecting them from the prejudice and fear that greeted us not long after our discovery. Much like today, many believed us to be possessed or demons and minions of the Keeper. As in Zandor, they began hunting us down ruthlessly - some just wanted us dead, others wanted dragon’s blood for themselves. As strong as we were… we were still new to our powers and did not wish to kill those we had once considered friends and allies. We spent many years running and hiding, trying to find a safe place to live in peace. Soon, it became apparent that finding such a place would never happen. Thane and many others spent years studying their powers and that of the unique abilities within the remains of dragons. One day, Thane stumbled upon something remarkable - he had encircled himself in dragon-bone. As it grew dark, he tried to summon fire to see by and the pain that had followed was horrifying. Yet outside the circle, his powers were fine. Curiously, they could not penetrate through the circle. He layered a circle of his own blood within the circle and discovered his powers worked within but would not extend further. By the next day Thane and the others were collecting and powdering all the dragon-bone they could find and began encompassing the area, which eventually became Salvas.

  After nearly a century of living in peace, Thane began to grow bitter and harbored enmity against the outside world. He believed our powers and numbers had grown greatly and that we no longer should have to hide, but instead should conquer.” She sighed as her hand slipped from the armor. “Many agreed with him and many did not; it was the cause of many disputes that soon turned our peaceful world violent.” She turned away from Meath. “I called a secret meeting of all those who were opposed to Thane and his notion of conquest, even though I pretended to support his ideals. I was the only one he trusted and the only one who could get close to him. That same night I...” She turned back to face Meath, tears cascading down her aging cheeks. “I killed him while he slept in our bed. It was the only way to stop him - his mind was set and he would not be swayed. With him dead, most of the others gave up the idea, but many did not and fought back or fled Salvas. It was a dark time in our history, and only in the last while have things begun to settle and calm.”

  Meath was stunned by what he had just heard. “It must have been hard for you.”

  “I wish it could have been different, but it could not. I did what I had to, to protect the peace that Salvas was created for.” Zada wiped the tears from her face. “But that is not why I brought you here.” She unclasped the thick leather belt around the mannequin and pulled the sheathed dagger from it. “This was your father’s; it is over a thousand years old. It was meant to go to Astaroth, as he was Thane’s only living son…” she paused, “that he knew of. He wanted it to stay within the family blood line. Its rightful place is with you.” Zada handed Meath the dragon-bone handled blade.

  Meath ran his fingers across the smooth ivory handle and pulled the claw-fashioned blade from the dragon-hide sheath. The bone of the handle ran up the center of the forward curving dagger, while an iron blade trimmed the outer perimeter, providing a razor sharp edge to the blade. For the age of the weapon, the craftsmanship was intricate and flawless. “If I fail, it will still likely end up in Astaroth’s hands.”

  “You will not fail, Meath,” Zada countered with a smile.

  *****

  Lord Andras sat astride his large, dark brown war-horse. The beast shifted his feet eagerl
y, sensing a battle was near. Jarroth and Master Jacob flanked him on either side, five-hundred hardened soldiers waited behind them for orders with nearly a hundred on horseback.

  The arrival of Master Jacob and another of Draco’s six hundred soldiers had been a glorious surprise. They now had sixteen hundred trained soldiers and well over two thousand armed refugees. Their numbers were nearly evenly matched to those of their enemy. With such numbers, they had been able to set up camps along the eastern side of Mandrake Lake. Andras had his outposts guarding the southern side, nearly ending the threat of more tribes being able to join forces with those already squatting within Mandrake’s walls. With their reinforcements and supplies cut off for over half a fortnight now, they were getting anxious to find more food to feed the thousands of warriors within Mandrake. Hunger led to desperation and desperation led to reckless decisions and those decisions forced them out from behind stone walls. The prize and fortifications they had so eagerly taken were now becoming their prison and they were quickly realizing it.

  This was the second attempt the enemy had made to intercept supplies. The first had failed miserably and not a single defender had been injured. The enemy had sent a score of boats, filled with warriors, across the lake in the dead of night to attack the smaller defending eastern camps. What they had not expected was the hail of flaming arrows that had descended down upon them, ending the threat before a single boat had reached the shore.

  This time the enemy was acting audaciously on poor information. The only scouts the defenders let live were the ones that had seen what they wanted them to. Lord Andras had kept Dagon’s ruse going by keeping the full strength of their numbers hidden until needed. The enemy had moved in on a small cache of food supplies that looked to be ill-defended, near Drake Lake. The barbarians did not want to chance a small invading force to take the camp. In the cover of night once more, they had sent nearly a thousand warriors out in clusters, once within the cover of trees they fully regrouped.