The Bond of Blood

by Kody Boye

  “The mayor’s a pretty nice man.”

  “He is,” Miko agreed. “It takes a good person to open up his home like that.”

  Odin nodded, reaching down to mess with one of the buttons on his sleeveless jerkin. It’d come loose sometime, though when he couldn’t be sure. He’d have to ask Joseph if he could borrow some needle and thread so he could sew it back together.

  I don’t think I could do it the right way with magic.

  Though he could mend and heat fabric, he didn’t think he would be able to sew the thin areas between the button and jerkin without messing up. That was something else he’d have to learn how to do.

  At least I’m not going to be a tailor.

  He laughed at the thought.

  “What?” Nova grinned.

  “I was just thinking about how I’m not going to be a tailor,” Odin said, fingering the button on his shirt. “It’s loose.”

  “Ah,” Nova said.

  “I’ll mend it for you,” Miko offered.

  “Oh no, sir—I can do it myself.”

  “It’s fine. I enjoy doing simple things like knitting anyway. They help put my mind at ease.”

  That’s odd, Odin thought, because it always seems to drive me nuts.

  “If you want to, that’s fine. Thank you.”

  “There’s no need to thank me.”

  The carriage passed over the invisible barrier that separated the old part of the village from the new. Amidst newer, browner wood and more evenly-laid paths, Odin found himself missing the somewhat-colorful, red-wooded area they’d just been in.

  “Sir,” Odin said. “When my hip is fully recovered, can me and Nova come stay at the inn with you?”

  “The mayor has arranged for us to stay in a small cottage near where he lives. It’s down the hill right near the main road, so we’ll have easy access to the rest of the village.”

  “That’s awfully nice of him,” Nova said, though Odin thought his voice held some amusement. Given the convenient placement, it was no wonder Nova sounded the way he did.

  “He’s taking a liking to me, I suppose,” the Elf said.

  Nova chuckled. Odin elbowed his side before he could say something stupid.

  We don’t need you screwing things up.

  “Anyway,” Odin said, “Joseph said my hip should be better soon. If I’m walking as well as I am, all I’ll have to do is keep getting the right amount of rest and exercise.”

  “He’s a good man,” Miko agreed.

  Odin kept his silence as the carriage continued to lead them through the village.

  That afternoon, after they’d eaten a small lunch of soup Joseph had brought for them, Odin lay in bed watching the cloaked Elf guide a needle through the tough fabric of his jerkin. For having such large hands and well-proportioned fingers, the needle didn’t seem to trouble Miko at all.

  He doesn’t cease to amaze me.

  “Is something wrong?” Miko asked, looking up to face him.

  “Oh, no,” Odin smiled. “I was just thinking about how hard it must be to use that small a needle, given how big your hands are and all.

  Nova chuckled. Miko merely shrugged and went back to knitting.

  “You kidding?” the older, human man asked, plopping down at the end of Odin’s bed. “He can do anything.”

  “Not anything,” the Elf murmured.

  “Pretty much everything.”

  “The two of you flatter me.”

  “We’ll be quiet,” Odin said.

  Miko nodded.

  “Hey,” Nova whispered, gesturing Odin to get out of bed. “Come here. I gotta show you something.”

  “What is it?”

  “Some new game I found in a book here.”

  “A game?”

  “Yeah.”

  After sliding out of bed, Odin made his way to the table in the corner. There, a pair of wooden, eight-sided dice and a stack of cards lay arranged in the center, neatly-posed as though prepared specifically for that moment.

  “You see,” Nova said, lifting a couple of cards and setting them right-side up. “You draw four cards, roll the dice, and put down as many numbered cards as you can.”

  “Okay,” Odin said. “What’s the goal of the game?”

  “It’s like this,” Nova said, drawing two more cards, setting them face up, then rolling the dice. One die had a four, the other a two. “There’s six there, and I’ve got a two, a three, a one and a five card, so that gives me eleven numbers. But, listen to this: you need to match the cards as perfectly as possible, or else you lose part of the fifty points you start out with.”

  “So the point of the game is to make the other person go to zero?”

  “Yeah. Wanna play?”

  “I guess,” Odin shrugged, sliding into the chair opposite Nova. “What’s the game called?”

  “Beats the hell out of me, but at least it gives us something to do.”

  Odin couldn’t agree more.

  They played the nameless game for the next several hours, trying to best one another in chance and luck. After a few cycles, Odin started to doubt that he had much luck, as he only continued to lose time and again as the day continued on.

  “We’re almost tied,” Nova chuckled, setting down another perfect set of cards. “I mean, I’ve won five and you’ve won three.”

  “Now you see my point.”

  Nova chuckled and turned his head up to look around the room. Odin, too, looked over his shoulder. It soon became apparent that they’d been deserted some time ago. “I wonder where they went,” he mumbled, pushing away from the table to walk toward the window.

  “Hey!” Nova cried. “Where you goin’?”

  “I think I’m done, if that’s all right.”

  “Aww, come on!”

  “Do I have to?”

  “No.” Nova stood and walked to Odin’s side, slapping an arm across his back. “That was fun while it lasted, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” Odin said. “It was.”

  Eyes on the window, he scanned for any trace of Miko or Joseph. The two could’ve stepped out at the height of their game, when Odin had won his first match, but he couldn’t be sure. For all he knew, they could’ve been gone for hours and neither of them would have known. “Where do you think they went?” he asked.

  “Beats the hell out of me. Don’t worry—they won’t be gone for long.”

  Yeah right.

  Knowing Miko, he’d probably returned to the mayor’s house.

  Uh oh.

  “What if Miko went back to visit the mayor?” Odin frowned.

  “How do you mean?”

  “The whole reason we left earlier was because I wanted to get him away from there.”

  “So that’s why we left,” Nova mumbled.

  “But anyway, what if he’s up there?”

  “I don’t think we have anything to worry about, Odin. He’s got self-control. He—”

  “There!”

  Odin pointed.

  The red and black carriage came barreling up to the building, whips flying and horses whinnying in protest. A flick of the reins stopped the mighty beasts just as Joseph flung himself from the contraption and into the infirmary.

  “What’s wrong?” Odin asked, heart thundering in his chest.

  “Your knight master’s at the mayor’s house,” Joseph gasped, setting his hands to his knees. “You have to get up there. The mayor’s daughter is very sick. They’ll need all the help they can get.”

  The moment they entered the mansion and into the chaos placating the air, Miko bounded across the room and ascended the stairs with unimaginable speed before disappearing down a hall. Odin, with little time to ask where they were going, simply followed as fast as he could, despite the throb in his hip.

  Not now, not now, he thought. Don’t give out on me.

  If his hip decided not to support his weight, he’d be back at the bottom of the stairs before he would even realize what happened.

  “You o
kay kid?” Nova asked as they stepped off the last stair.

  “Yeah,” he breathed. “I am.”

  “He went down this hall, right?”

  “Uh huh.”

  Nova slapped Odin’s back, then gripped his hand, pulling him along. They needed no direction as the frantic cries of the old man and the struggling gasps of a woman desperate to breathe drifted into the hall to meet them.

  Should we go in? Odin thought, but soon disregarded it when Nova pushed the door open.

  “What can we do?” Nova asked.

  “Stay back!” Miko cried, the force in his voice so powerful that it sent even Nova back a few steps.

  “Help her!” Hakua cried. “Please!”

  “She’s choking,” Miko whispered, setting a hand on her chest. “Step back, sir.”

  “What are you—”

  Before the man could finish, the Elf cast a glove off and slit the girl’s shirt open from blouse to midsection. Heaving breasts exposed, frantically falling and covered in sweat, Miko set a hand between the two perk muscles and reached up to tilt the woman’s head forward.

  What are you doing? Odin thought, drawing against Nova’s side. How are you going to get her to stop choking?

  Tossing his head back, Miko’s hood came free of his skin and hair, revealing handsome worry in the most terrifying form. His eyes, wide with pain and misery, closed as he bowed his head and pressed his colorful lips to the girl’s pale blue flesh.

  He’s—

  “Sucking it out of her lungs,” he whispered.

  Wasn’t such a move dangerous? Hadn’t the healer back at the castle said that performing magic on something you couldn’t see could produce deadly consequences?

  Unless he’s not using magic.

  The thought crossed his mind for only a brief moment before Miko broke away from the girl. Coughing, she threw herself forward, arms outstretched, and dug her fingers into her savior’s cloak as his large, strong hands met her back.

  “Odin,” Miko said. “The glass.”

  “What, sir?”

  “The glass of water.”

  The amber-colored vial sat near the bed, atop a small end table. Odin had just stepped forward and lifted the glass when the Elf spat what rested in his mouth out.

  A quick glance down showed the mixture of brown-gray residue floating amidst the water.

  “Who… who are you?” the girl asked, openly sobbing in a stranger’s arms.

  “No one,” Miko said, setting a hand to the girl’s neck and guiding her back to the bed. “Sleep until your body is healed.”

  Almost immediately, the girl ceased trembling.

  Hakua let out a low moan.

  While the mayor’s daughter recovered, her breathing tuned to the natural rhythms of her healing body and lungs no longer swollen with bile, Odin and Nova sat downstairs, trying to listen to the conversation that took place in the room no more than a few feet away. Hakua and Miko spoke in soft, hushed tones. Every so often, a slight word would drift to Odin’s ears, filling his chest with heat and worry, but nothing in the air could be discerned, save for the subtle rise in pitch from Hakua the few times the conversation rose to a crescendo.

  “What are they talking about?” Odin asked, leaning close so only Nova could hear.

  “Probably what they’re going to do with the girl.”

  “What to do with her?” Odin frowned. “What are you—”

  “Miko wants her, Odin. Now that he’s saved her from an early death, he’s free to do what he wants.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve never heard that before?” Nova frowned. He crossed his arms over his chest, obviously troubled by the sentiment, before leaning back and letting loose a sigh. “If a knight, or someone of similar status, saves a nobleman, chieftain or mayor’s daughter, he’s free to take her to bed with him, regardless of marital status or whether or not they are committed to another’s affairs.”

  “He wouldn’t do that, Nova. Just because he can doesn’t mean he—”

  Odin stopped speaking. Miko stepped forward from the hall and gestured the two of them to rise.

  “Is everything all right, sir?” Odin asked, sliding his thumbs into his pockets.

  “Everything is fine,” Miko sighed. “The girl is safe, Hakua isn’t frantic, and we’re returning to the infirmary to gather up your clothes and other personal belongings.”

  “How come?” Nova frowned.

  “We’ll be moving into the cottage—unless, of course, Joseph wants to keep you in the infirmary, Odin.”

  “He said I should be ok,” Odin mumbled.

  “Good. Let’s get going then. We need to give the two of them their time alone.”

  They returned to the infirmary and packed Odin and Nova’s belongings. Into sacks, packs, and by any means possible, they assembled their gear and personal artifacts in preparation to move to where they would be kept for the remainder of the year. The whole while, it seemed as though a heat was rising in Odin’s chest—burning, slowly, through his esophagus and into his mouth, where it birthed decay and made him think of all the horrible things in the world.

  He wouldn’t, Odin thought, rising from his place near the end of his bed.

  Just when they seemed ready to leave, Joseph returned from his afternoon errands and asked to look at Odin’s injuries.

  Just as a precaution, he said.

  Beneath the privacy of a sheet, Joseph examined the wounds, prodding the area around the scar with his fingers and gently stroking the swollen scar tissue. Once he deemed his leg well, he slid his hand up Odin’s thigh until they rested at his hip, where a black and blue bruise lay knotted against the surface of his skin like a wicked tattoo of the flesh.

  “Damn,” Nova whistled, falling to a knee by the nurse’s side. “That looks like it hurts.”

  “It does,” Odin mumbled, adding just the slightest bit of sarcasm with the hope that Joseph would stop poking and prodding.

  “I’m just checking to see that it’s healing properly,” the man laughed. “Don’t worry—it’ll all be over soon enough.”

  I might as well just shut up and deal with it.

  Setting one hand behind his head, Odin closed his eyes and listened to the man’s sighs of approval. Nova, breathing slowly, reached out and set a hand on Odin’s chest, right by his ribs.

  “It’ll be all right, bud. You’re ok.”

  “You’re perfectly fine,” Joseph said, standing. “I see no reason to keep you here unless your leg wound opens or your hip shows no signs of recovery.”

  “So I can go then?” Odin asked, sliding out from under the sheets. He reached for his underwear at the end of the bed.

  “You can go, but I wouldn’t suggest running or doing any strenuous leg exercises until the wound heals. You don’t want to rip it open.”

  No, I don’t, he thought, grimacing when he remembered how bad it had hurt to run. He nodded and slid his trousers up his legs. “Thank you,” Odin said, reaching out to grasp the man’s hand. “You’ve done so much for all of us.”

  “Yeah,” Nova said. He, too, offered a hand. “It means a lot.”

  “I know it does, guys. You don’t have to thank me though—it’s part of my job.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Odin smiled, accepting the man’s firm handshake. “You still took care of us.”

  “And nursed us back to health,” Nova added.

  “Again, part of my job.”

  The door opened. Miko crouched down and entered. “Is my squire able to leave the infirmary?” he asked.

  “More than ready, sir. If you can, try not to make him do anything that might open his wound. It’s healing, but I don’t want an accidental fall or jump to tear it open again.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t allow him to injure himself.”

  “All right then. I guess I’ll see the three of you around—if you’re staying, that is?”

  “We’ll be here for the next year,” Odin said. “We’ll come arou
nd and visit. Huh, Nova?”

  “Right.”

  “And you’re more than welcome at Hakua’s cottage if you’d like to visit,” Miko said.

  “I’d be honored,” Joseph replied.

  They bade the man a final goodbye before slinging their packs over their shoulders and their weapons at their sides.

  Before he could leave, Odin turned and smiled.

  It seemed like everywhere he went, his faith in the kindness of strangers only continued to grow.

  “It’s small,” Miko said, “but it will keep the three of us.”

  Plain, devoid of beds, and with only a shower room built into the side, the cottage stood about the size of a small barn, suitable for keeping horses at an inn or a similar establishment. Odin chose a place in the corner, slinging his pack off his shoulders. Nova, who chose to sleep near the western wall, settled his pack beside Odin’s, where he settled down onto the floor cross-legged and surveyed the room with curious eyes.

  “I’ll make the beds,” Odin said, accepting his knight master’s pack as Miko slid it off his shoulders. “I haven’t been acting like much of a squire lately.”

  “That’s fine,” Miko said. He never specified what he was implying.

  Choosing to ignore the open statement, Odin settled to his knees, began arranging his master’s larger-than-average bed, then slid across the room, grabbing for Nova’s pack.

  “It’s all right, kid. I can make my own bed.”

  “Let him,” Miko said. “He wants to.”

  “Right,” Odin nodded.

  Though Nova seemed doubtful, he released his hold on his pack. Odin opened it up and pulled clothes and other personal items out of the bag, one of which included a small mirror and a knife.

  “For shaving,” Nova chuckled.

  Odin laughed. Nova had done anything but shave over the past few days.

  “At least you keep your beard trimmed,” he chuckled, rolling Nova’s bedroll out.

  “Just because I’m hairy doesn’t mean I don’t keep myself clean,” the man laughed, locking Odin’s head between his chest and forearm, then messing with his hair before releasing him.