Sisters of the Blade

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Sisters of the Blade Page 19

by Shawn E. Crapo

"So is Freyja," Ivar said.

  After dropping anchor, Ivar, Odhran, Baleron and Neko waded the short distance to shore. The rest would remain behind to guard the ship. Baleron hoped that Odhran could take down some game with his bow, and they could drag it back together. Their first priority, however, was finding fresh water.

  The lagoon provided some cover from the view of anyone at sea, but there seemed to be no rivers or creeks emptying into it. It was a good hiding place, but not a good place to start the hunt for water. They would have to follow their ears to any flowing water source.

  The beach was black sand, rocky, and flat for about one hundred yards before sloping upward at a steep angle. Baleron knew their location by the height of the cliffs. They were about two-thirds of the way down the east coast, where the cliffs gradually began sloping downward. Near the southern edge of the island, the land was flat. Hakeem's earlier guess was correct as far as he could tell.

  "If there are any rivers here," Neko said. "We would probably see them fall from the cliffs above."

  "I think there is a small creek that flows from the south along the shore," Baleron said, struggling to remember where. "If we can't find that, I know there are springs around somewhere. This small beach is far too lush to be devoid of any fresh water."

  "It's very thick," Odhran said. "Not many open areas. We would have better luck fishing, I think."

  "I'm sure there are deer somewhere," Ivar added. "We just have to look for them. If not, I have nothing against eating squirrels."

  Odhran chuckled. "Squirrels are hard to hit with a bow."

  "If anyone could do it," Ivar replied. "It would be you."

  Odhran shrugged as he looked at Baleron. Baleron grinned, knowing Odhran wasn't used to receiving compliments from the Northman. Ivar was not one to exchange niceties with anyone, especially Alric. Though seemingly at each other's throats constantly, it was simple jesting, like brothers would do.

  Neko held out a hand to stop them suddenly. He crouched slightly, turning his ear toward the vegetation. He then motioned for Odhran to approach. The ranger drew his bow and crept up behind him, and Baleron followed.

  "What is it?" he asked.

  "Something big moving slowly through the woods," Neko said. "It stopped a few seconds ago."

  They stood in silence, hearing nothing but the gulls above, and the gentle lapping of the lagoon's water against the rocks. But then, there was a slight shuffling noise from within. Odhran nocked an arrow, waiting for something to appear. Through the shadowy brush, Baleron could see the faint outline of some small man-like creature.

  Druaga.

  "Lads," he said. "Don't make any sudden moves. We are being watched by Druaga."

  Neko turned his head to look at him. "By what?"

  "Druaga," Baleron repeated. "Servants of the Dragon."

  "What are they doing here?" Odhran said. "They're far from home."

  Baleron stepped forward, putting his hand on Neko's shoulder to make sure he stayed behind. He stood in front of the group, crouching and holding out his hands in a gesture of peace.

  "Put your weapons away," he said. "They will not attack us."

  "How do you know that?" Neko asked.

  "We have dealt with them on many occasions," Baleron explained. "They are friends of the Alvar, and the rangers."

  He turned back to the Druaga, trying to make out its exact outline. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that others were gradually joining their companion, sidling next to it almost completely silent.

  "I am Baleron," he spoke. "I am a ranger, a friend of the Alvar, and servant of the Dragon. These are my friends and fellow knights, and Neko. We are on a journey to meet our friend Dearg at Tel Drakkar."

  One of the Druaga stepped out onto the sand, black-cloaked and as silent as a mouse. Baleron could hear Neko and Ivar both gasp behind him.

  "We came to shore to find food and water," Baleron continued. "We have run out of both."

  I can sense your sincerity. You may remain here and search for provisions. We will not bother you.

  "I thank you," Baleron said. "We need fresh water first. Can you point us in the right direction?"

  A ranger needing directions? Fine. Follow the trail to my left. There is a small spring next to the cliff side. Hunt carefully and do not kill anything you see in the treetops.

  "Very well," Baleron said, unsure as to what could be in the treetops.

  When you have finished, come back to us. We will ensure that you maintain safe passage to your destination.

  Baleron nodded. "Thank you."

  "Is it talking to you?" Ivar asked. "Because I cannot hear—"

  "They speak through your mind," Odhran said, stopping him. "Only the ones they speak to can hear them."

  Baleron turned around, standing up. "They will allow us to gather supplies," he said. "There is a spring down this trail. But be careful what you shoot at. They said to avoid killing anything in the treetops."

  "What could be in the treetops?" Neko asked.

  Baleron shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

  They got their answer.

  As they made their way down the trail toward the spring, there were hundreds of small creatures following them in the treetops. Their hoots and howls were cacophonous and constant, loud enough to drown out the men's voices. All of them watched the curious things with expressions of amusement and annoyance at the same time.

  "What are those things?" Ivar asked. "And why are they so loud?"

  "Those are monkeys," Neko said. "They are creatures of the mainland, mostly Anwar and Pashir. I have no idea how they got here."

  "What is a monkey?" Odhran asked.

  "Well," Neko tried to explain. "They're sort of like people, only primitive and obviously more animalistic. If you were to see one up close, you would understand."

  "Why is that?" Odhran asked.

  "Their faces are somewhat human-like. But they're furry and very… quirky."

  "That's frightening," Ivar said. "As far as I'm concerned they can stay up there."

  "They might," Neko said. "They're very curious though. One or two might come down to investigate. But don't worry, my friend. As I said, they are harmless."

  As soon as Neko finished his statement, something splatted against the back of Ivar's head. Baleron held out his hand to block the spatter, and immediately smelled a foul odor.

  "What was… what?" Ivar stammered, reaching to the back of his head.

  His expression soured, and he held his hand out in front of him, gritting his teeth when he realized what he was looking at. Neko began to chuckle, and Baleron could not help but cover his own mouth so as not to laugh as well. Odhran hid his grin with his gauntlet.

  "That little devil threw—"

  "I forgot to mention that," Neko said. "Be careful. They throw it at people or animals they don't like."

  Ivar looked up, scowling at the monkeys as they bellowed with what sounded like laughter. They jumped from tree to tree, excitedly chattering in a chorus of squeaks and chirps.

  "Little bastards," Ivar said, bending down to scrape the monkey feces from his hair.

  "The pond is ahead," Odhran said, still chuckling lightly. "You can wash out your hair there."

  Neko reached behind him, pulling a folded piece of canvas from his belt. He flipped it out in front of him, unfolding the cloth to reveal a long bag.

  "What is that?" Baleron asked.

  "Water bag," Neko said. "You didn't think we were going to carry the pond back to the ship did you?"

  "Good point."

  They approached the pond and spread out, Ivar kneeling down by a stump to stick his head in the water, and Odhran looking out over the surface, presumably looking for crayfish or some other small creatures to gather. Neko waded into the water, keeping his eye on Ivar as he laid the canvas bag on the surface of the water.

  "Wait until we've filled the water bag," he said. "I don't want that mess in our drinking water."

  "Bah," Ivar
said, scrubbing the back of his head. "Just stay over there."

  Neko shot Baleron a grin, and began filling the bag by dunking it into the water and dragging it around. Soon, the bag was filled and completely submerged. Neko lifted its mouth up and tied it off with the drawstring that was sewn around the lip of the opening.

  "This will be heavy," he said. "It will probably take all of us to carry it."

  "Do we have more containers the others could fill?" Baleron asked, grabbing on to one of the carrying straps.

  "We do. I'll have Hakeem and the others bring the barrels. Those are easy to roll, and this trail is fairly flat."

  There was the sudden twang of a bow, and the two looked up to see Odhran gathering up a rabbit. The young ranger strapped it to his belt and nocked another arrow, creeping around low and silent for another kill.

  "He's a good archer," Neko said. "He was a hunter, wasn't he?"

  "A trapper, mostly," Baleron said. "And a farmer. His family was killed by T'kar's troops, so I recruited him and the other young men of his village."

  "To be rangers?"

  "Yes," Baleron said. "Much like Finn, from what he says."

  "Ah," Neko said with a smile. "We've been friends for a long time. Even before king Daegoth was killed. We had to keep our friendship quiet, for obvious reasons."

  "I could see him having to keep it quiet, but you?"

  "Of course," Neko said. "We pirates have a code, too."

  Baleron chuckled, helping Neko lift the bag to a vertical position. He was beginning to like the man, despite him being somewhat of a criminal. But then, Finn wasn't exactly the same kingsman he used to be. Either way, they weren't bad men. They were simply doing what they could to help keep the people safe from T'kar, and well-fed. Smuggling things under the nose of a tyrant was a noble cause.

  "I am looking forward to meeting this friend of yours," Neko said.

  "So you want to go all the way to Tel Drakkar?"

  "If that's what it takes to bring down T'kar, then yes."

  "I'm surprised," Baleron said. "Not because of your willingness to help, but because you don't have to. This isn't your country, and not your responsibility, yet here you are."

  Neko grinned. "I've made this island my home for many years. I like it, despite its king. If I can help put another king on the throne, then I will do what I can."

  Baleron nodded. This pirate, as he was called, was a more noble man than most. He would make a good knight. Perhaps Dearg would see that as well.

  "I'm clean," Ivar said, wandering over. "I'll help with the bag. I think Odhran has more critters to bring back to the ship."

  "Good," Baleron replied. "Let's get this back and then see what the Druaga have for us."

  "They said they will ensure our safe passage," Baleron said. "I'm not sure what that means, but I suppose we'll find out shortly."

  He and Neko stood at the edge of the brush awaiting the Druaga. They could hear the small creatures approaching from within, and a strange rumbling sound that came from the ground.

  "A quake?" Neko said, looking at Baleron.

  Baleron shrugged, unsure of what was going on, but noticed that the sand nearby was dancing around as if covering a pulsating object.

  "The Druaga are brilliant engineers," Baleron said. "I'm sure whatever is happening is their doing."

  Before either of them could speculate any further, the Druaga appeared from the brush. The sand nearby collapsed into a large trench that slowly sank into the beach, reaching from the lagoon all the way to a darkened cave opening in the cliff side. Druaga emerged from either side of it, watching as the floor of it sank to a depth at least as high as a man.

  "That's odd," Baleron said. "It's just large enough for your ship to pass through."

  Neko laughed. "I've never seen anything like it."

  Ranger, the Druaga leader spoke. Baleron turned to watch as the creature approached him.

  "What is your idea?" he asked.

  You may travel through the caverns. They are dangerous, but wondrous. You will find it much faster than sailing around the southern tip of the island.

  "How dangerous?"

  We have not traversed these caverns in centuries, but there are still those who live underground and do not welcome strangers.

  Baleron nodded. "We will be wary."

  You will be able to use your sails, but they will not carry you as swiftly as they would at sea. Keep watch on either side of you, and do not hesitate to defend yourselves if need be. The Dragon will guide you.

  "Thank you," Baleron said. "We will keep that in mind."

  The Druaga bowed, turning to disappear into the brush once more. The others followed, and the two men were left alone on the shore. Baleron turned around to look at the ship. He could see everyone on board gazing open-mouthed at the cave that had appeared. Hakeem scratched his head, shrugging. Baleron couldn't help but laugh.

  "I suppose this will be your strangest route," he said.

  "That's for sure," Neko said. "But I'm certain Hakeem can manage it."

  "Alright, then," Baleron said. "Let's sail through the earth."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Erenoth was led into a small chamber with a domed ceiling, ornate rugs on the floor, and a large altar against the back wall. Behind the altar was a black statue depicting a dragon standing on its hind legs, with its wings spread, and its head lowered. The mouth was open, and its fangs were visible.

  Upon the altar, directly in front of the dragon's mouth, was a silver chalice. It was adorned with blue and green jewels, and roughly the same height as a man's forearm was long. There were black candles on either side of it, and the light flickered around the chamber to reveal intricate carvings upon the walls.

  Erenoth stepped forward, hearing the door close behind him. He looked back briefly, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt strange, as if he had stepped into another dimension and had left his soul behind. But there was a strange comfort in that feeling. He knew it was because something had escaped him, and would remain gone forever.

  It was his old self, he knew, and he was here to be reborn.

  Come to me, Erenoth.

  The Dragon's voice echoed in his head as it had done before. There was a kindness to it, an almost fatherly tone. It was comforting to Erenoth, and helped to ease any trepidation he felt.

  Mostly.

  "I am here," he said. "I am ready."

  Take the chalice and drink of my blood.

  Erenoth gulped. He didn't have much of a desire to drink blood, but he guessed it was simply a metaphor. The chalice was likely filled with wine, and his drinking of it was symbolic, much like some of the religions of the mainland.

  Hesitantly, he stepped forward, his eyes fixed upon the dragon's maw. The candlelight made the statue seem alive, as if it were breathing or moving slightly in an almost imperceptible swaying. He looked down at the chalice, seeing the red fluid within. It too reflected the candlelight, but seemed thick instead of a true liquid.

  It was not wine.

  Do not worry, Erenoth. When you drink, I will be a part of you forever.

  "I trust you," he said. "This is all just new to me."

  I understand, and when you drink so will you.

  Erenoth reached down and grasped the chalice by the stem, letting it slide down his fingers until they were wrapped around the bowl. He raised it to his lips, giving it a quick whiff before tilting it. The blood ran hot into his mouth. It tasted sweet, with a slight bitterness that stuck to the roof of his mouth. He swallowed, feeling it slide down his throat and warming his stomach. With one more breath, he finished the blood and set the chalice back onto the altar.

  Good. Now that your sins have been washed away, let my blood repair and rebuild you in my image.

  "What do you—"

  An excruciating pain gripped Erenoth's gut, turning and tightening like a fist grasping his innards and twisting them. He gasped out loud and fell to the floor, writhing in agony as the blood co
ursed through him. His heart raced faster than ever, threatening to jump out of his chest. Even his fingertips burned with the pain.

  "What is… happening?" he cried out.

  Fear not. The pain will subside. It is a necessary thing, I'm afraid.

  For the second time, the Dragon was causing him pain. This time, it was from within. His organs and bones seemed to be breaking, tearing, and reforming themselves. His skin burned and bubbled, and his vision began to blur and fade. His gut wrenched once again, and he felt a lump rise in his throat. Without warning, he vomited, spewing strange, black fluid from his mouth. It was bitter and noxious, and he spat all of it out with disgust.

  There was another painful burning in his hands. He lifted one to his eyes, seeing his fingers elongate into curved claws. A loose flap of skin began to form on the underside of his arms. His neck ached badly, and he realized it was getting longer. His face was being pulled as well, and his gums bled as long sharp fangs began to emerge.

  His skin was darkening, becoming hard scales that were as black as night and as gleaming as the stars in the candlelight. He took in a deep breath, coughing as the air entered his newly formed lungs. To his surprise, flames shot out.

  He was becoming a dragon.

  Bewildered, he cried out in protest, but more flames came out. He backed away from the statue, using the claws on his wings to lift his weight. Though terrified and somewhat resistant, he began to feel the raw power in his body. He had never felt so strong and powerful. The body was difficult to maneuver, he found, but he felt he could get used to it. The only question was would he be able to become a man again.

  "What is this?" he growled with his dragon's maw. "What is happening?"

  Fear not, Erenoth. This is temporary. Once you have become used to your dragon's body, you will be able to take its form at any time you wish. You will be a humanoid again soon. But for now, I bid you test your new wings.

  There was a rumble from above that shook the entire chamber. Erenoth looked up, seeing the domed ceiling split into four sections as it rose up. Once fully opened, the sections revealed a large shaft that led upward toward the peak of the tower. There, another door opened to the sky.

 

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