The Bond of Blood

by Kody Boye

  “Speaking to old men about life,” Miko said, closing the door, then locking it. “I’m sorry for keeping you up.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Oh, don’t worry—I did.”

  A smirk appeared on Miko’s face as he pulled his hood back. He stood there for a moment, smiling at what he’d just said, before he began to disrobe, pulling both his cloak and cape from his back.

  “Why were you talking about life with old men?” he frowned, thinking of how the Elf had acted earlier.

  “For general conversation, I suppose. I figured you and Nova could use a little personal time anyway.”

  “Don’t think we don’t want your company,” Odin said, reaching up to run a hand through his still-unwashed hair. “If something’s bothering you, you can talk to us. You know that, right?”

  “I know,” Miko smiled.

  Of course you know, Odin smirked. You just don’t tell us anything.

  Then again, that wasn’t entirely true. Miko had confided about his overwhelming need to be with a woman and about the deep depression that forced thoughts of death in his mind. Such things weren’t meant to be glossed over, especially considering his age and lack of experience.

  “I feel like I’m talking to a man sometimes,” Miko said, reaching down to part his hands over his skirt. “Not that you aren’t one, because you most rightfully are. What I mean is that you’re very wise for your age.”

  “You flatter me, sir.”

  “There’s no need to feel that way. It’s only the truth.”

  Odin nodded and stepped forward to gather his master’s clothes. While Miko walked to the bed, stopping by the window as he did every night, Odin folded the black ensemble and placed it on the bed.

  “Thank you,” Miko said, glancing over his shoulder.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Goodnight Odin.”

  “Goodnight, sir.”

  A knock at the door roused him from sleep.

  At first, Odin remained in bed, thinking Nova or Miko would answer it. Gradually, though, he came to realize neither intended to do so.

  Sliding out of bed, he grabbed his belt and secured it around his waist so his trousers wouldn’t slide down his bony waist, then stepped toward the doorway. He stopped, waited, then ran a hand over his face to clear any sweat that may have managed to run down his brow before opening the door.

  Icklard and Domnin stood in the hall, talking amongst one another. They obviously hadn’t noticed the door had opened.

  Okay, Odin thought, waiting for either of the brothers to take notice of him.

  “Oh,” Icklard said, turning his attention to the now-open doorway. “Hello, Odin.”

  “Good morning,” Domnin added.

  “Hello,” Odin yawned, running a hand through his hair. “Do you guys need something?”

  “Sorry for waking you,” Icklard sighed, reaching back to scratch his neck. “We came to ask if you wanted to walk around town with us.”

  “This early?”

  “Better to do it now than later,” Domnin smiled. “We’ll have the streets to ourselves.”

  “I… guess,” Odin shrugged, casting a glance over his shoulder. “Let me put my socks and shoes on.”

  “All right,” Icklard said. “We’ll wait in the hall.”

  “If your knight master or Nova want to come, feel free to invite them,” the older brother added.

  “I will.”

  Without waiting for one of the brothers to reply, Odin closed the door and made his way back to the bed. He took a deep breath, reached up to rub the sleep from his eyes, then grabbed for his socks. He’d just begun to pull them onto his feet when Nova rolled over and set a hand over his eyes. “Somethin’ up?” the man croaked.

  “Icklard and Domnin invited me to come see the city with them,” Odin said, pulling his socks further up his ankles to smooth the wrinkles in them. “Do you want to come?”

  “Nah. It’s too early to be walking around town anyway.”

  “All right. I’ll see you later.”

  “See ya.”

  Nova rolled onto his stomach and closed his eyes. He seemed to fall asleep almost instantly.

  Odin glanced around the room, hoping to catch sight of his sword. He found it propped against the wall next to Nova’s scythe. Miko’s silver sheath, though not visible, could easily be hiding in one of the chests or amidst their packs.

  Doesn’t matter anyway, he thought, making sure he’d properly secured his sword at his side. It’s not like we’re going to run into any trouble here.

  The worst he could imagine was getting into a bar fight, but even then, Nova had upheld his promise not to get shit-faced again.

  “Odin?” Icklard asked, gently knocking on the door. “Are you almost ready?”

  “Yeah,” he said, pulling the blanket further up Nova’s back. “Let me lock the place up.”

  He walked to the threshold, lifted the key from its rack, and opened the door. He brushed out into the hall, locked it, and slid it under the crack beneath the wood, hoping Nova would be smart enough to locate it should he rise from bed before they returned.

  “All right,” Odin smiled, stretching his arms over his head. “You guys ready?”

  “Definitely,” Domnin grinned.

  Icklard smiled and led them down the hall.

  “It’s so… dark,” Odin frowned, looking up at the sky.

  “The Hornblaris does a good job at keeping the sun from rising early,” Icklard said, gesturing back at the mountains behind them. “They’re higher than they look.”

  “Especially in the morning,” Domnin said, stopping, then turning to look at the grand peaks that rose above them. “It’s… well… I don’t know how to describe it. Surreal, maybe, but I don’t think that’s the right word.”

  “I think the mountain’s anything but surreal,” Icklard laughed, clapping his brother’s back. “We’ve seen stranger things than the Hornblaris Mountains.”

  “Yeah, but… we’ve never been so close.”

  “You’ve never been this close to them?” Odin frowned.

  “Oh, no,” Domnin smiled. “We’ve only seen the mountains from a distance.”

  “I still don’t think they’re as surreal as you make them out to be,” Icklard said, smacking the back of his older brother’s head. “Come on—we’ve got more town to see.”

  “What all did you want to show me?” Odin asked, falling into place with the older men.

  “We just wanted to look around. Right, Domnin?”

  “Right,” the older brother said. “We’ve never been here before.”

  I figured, Odin thought.

  He raised his hand to cover a cough that escaped his throat.

  Memories came flooding back almost immediately.

  “Guys,” Odin said, looking up at the two of them. “You don’t think I’ll get the blood cough again, do you?”

  “You’ve had it before, right?” Icklard asked, waiting for Odin to nod before continuing. “I don’t see why you’d get it twice, if you’ve already had it.”

  “Does it worry you?” Domnin frowned.

  “My knight master said he catches it every so often. I worry I’ll give something to him.”

  “Your master is a strange one,” Icklard mused, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I don’t understand why he walks around in that cloak all the time. I mean, I can understand if he’s sensitive to light—as Jerdai and the man himself has said—but I’ve never heard of that before.”

  “He could be mixed blood,” Domnin mused, turning his attention to Odin. “Has he mentioned anything like that to you?”

  “Nuh-No,” Odin stuttered, swallowing a lump in his throat.

  Both brothers stopped. Domnin stared at him for a moment, frowned, then looked up at his brother, who only shrugged and offered a small, if somewhat-forced smile. “Doesn’t matter anyway,” Icklard said. “We don’t discriminate. Do we, Dom?”

  “Nope.”


  “Come on. Let’s go get some breakfast.”

  They stopped at a small shack along the side of the road and ate hot rolls and butterscotch tea. Odin, liking the tea so much upon the initial taste, was keen to ask the old woman who owned the bakery if he could buy a pack of the sweets they carried.

  “Why, of course,” she said, eyes alight with newfound pleasure. “I always knew someone would ask if they could buy some one day.”

  “You’ve never been asked before?” Odin frowned.

  “Why, no—no one has at all. I find it odd, considering most who come in here seem to enjoy the tea. I’d imagine sailors such as yourself would like something nice to drink out on the sea.”

  “We’re not sailors,” all three said, almost at the same time.

  The old woman merely laughed and walked behind the counter, where she disappeared into a back room.

  “Are you going to buy some?” Odin asked, watching his friends over the rim of his cup.

  “I don’t know,” Icklard shrugged.

  “We might as well,” Domnin said, reaching into his pocket. “Besides—Jerdai complains about all the honey tea I make.”

  “It’s not like he drinks it.”

  “That’s my point.”

  Icklard snickered, but quickly straightened when the old woman returned.

  “Here we go boys,” she said, setting two, pocket-sized bags before them.

  “We’ll pay now,” Odin said, fishing a few silver pieces out of his pocket. “Will this work?”

  “Silver?” she asked.

  “Uh… if you want something else, I can—”

  “Oh no, dear, it’s not that. It’s just… I’m not used to being offered such sums of money.”

  “Is it too much?”

  “I won’t lie, because I’m an honest old bird, but this butterscotch, it’s worth much less than it seems to be. I’m not going to take your money just because you offer it, though you’ll find many a person in this city will be more than willing to take whatever is offered.

  “You’re very kind,” Odin said, looking at the three silver pieces. He shifted the coins in his hand, watching them gleam in the faint light that pierced through the nearby window, then looked up at the old woman. Had she even seen a silver piece in her life, much less had one grace her old, wrinkled hand?

  He waited, not sure what to do or say, before smiling and setting the pieces in her hand.

  “Dear, I said—”

  “Please, take them,” he said, curling her fingers until they touched her palm.

  “I can’t—”

  “I’m a squire, ma’am—I can part with a few silver pieces.”

  “I don’t deserve such kindness.”

  “Everyone does.”

  Once Odin released his hold on her fist, the old woman uncurled her fingers, looked at the money in her hand, then walked around the counter.

  She disappeared into the back room without another word.

  “You know,” Domnin said, sliding a piece of butterscotch into his mouth, “she might have been playing you.”

  “I know,” Odin sighed, sliding his hands into his pockets. “They’re only silver pieces.”

  “Still, you gave her more money than she needed.”

  Odin bowed his head, preferring to stare at his feet rather than meet either of the brothers’ eyes. The knowledge that he could’ve been tricked out of money shamed him to no end. How would he face his knight master if he couldn’t even face his friends?”

  “Hey,” Icklard said, setting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s ok. We’ve all been duped out of money at least once in our lives.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “There’s a first time for everything,” Domnin said. He, too, set a hand on Odin’s back. “Besides—there’s worse things that could have happened.”

  “She could’ve taken gold,” Icklard said.

  “Or worse. Robbed you.”

  “I know,” Odin said, looking up at his friends. He stopped walking to look up at the sky, which had since brightened. Yellow-orange began to trail over the highest points of the mountains and cast flaming shards of red across the eastern horizon. “Thank you, Icklard, Domnin. I mean, for being there for me.”

  “You don’t have to thank us,” Icklard said.

  “You don’t,” Domnin smiled, running a hand up and down Odin’s back.

  “What am I going to tell my knight master when he asks about the missing silver? I took it so the three of us could spend the day together.”

  “Well,” Icklard smiled, sliding a silver piece out of his pocket. “I’ve got this.”

  “And I’ve got these,” Domnin added, holding two of his own.

  “I can’t take this from you.”

  “Yeah you can.”

  “Besides,” Icklard chuckled. “You paid for our food and butterscotch. It’s the least we could do.”

  By the time they returned to the bar later that day, the sun had fallen across the sky, as though plummeting to the earth like a being from a faraway world. Before they had a chance to enter the establishment and rule their day complete, they stopped to examine the sunset, bathing in the glory of the ethereal glow that radiated from the nearby sea.

  “It’s not often you see a sunset like this,” Domnin said, sliding an arm across his brother’s shoulders.

  “It makes you thankful for the things you have,” Icklard agreed.

  Odin kept his silence, choosing to step forward to allow the brothers their moment. He crouched down by the side of the road and raised his hand to block the harsh sunlight. He stayed there for several long moments, watching the sea ripple and shift, before Icklard bent down and touched his shoulder.

  “Come on,” Icklard said. “Let’s go in.”

  Standing, Odin turned and made his way into the bar, where he crossed the room and made his way up the stairs. Once there, he led the brothers down the hall until they stood at the foot of his room.

  “Do you want to come in?” Odin asked.

  “It’s getting dark,” Domnin shrugged, sliding his hands into his pockets.

  “We will if you want us to,” Icklard added. He, too, shrugged, but unlike his brother kept his hands out of his pockets.

  After a moment of waiting to see if either of the men would say something, Odin shrugged. He set his hand on the doorknob, tested its lock, and pushed the door open when he found he could enter. “Sir,” Odin said, looking around the corner as he stepped into the room. “I’m back. I—”

  Before he could finish, a figure lunged forward, catching Odin off guard. He instinctively jumped back and ran into the wall, not knowing it was Miko until he stopped in front of both brothers. Nova, who looked like he’d just been sleeping, came out from around the corner. He leaned against the wall, cocked one eye at the brothers, and smirked.

  “Meet our friend,” Nova chuckled.

  “Yuh-You’re an Elf!” Domnin cried.

  “Silence!” Miko hissed. “There’s no need to make it public knowledge.”

  Icklard, stunned, stared at the impressive figure before him, only stepping into the room when Domnin gripped his shirt and dragged him in. The Elf secured the door and locked it, turning his eyes on the brothers only when he felt it safe and giving them a menacing glare that surely could have killed. “There’s no reason for anyone to know except the three of us,” Miko said, watching the mages with cold, unblinking eyes.

  “Since when does Jerdai let Elves on his boat?” Icklard asked. “And since when does the King of Ornala allow something other than a human to train his squires?”

  “For quite a while,” Miko said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. He glanced at Odin out of the corner of his eye, but soon returned his attention to Icklard and Domnin. “You understand my need for secrecy, do you not?”

  “Yes,” Icklard said, glancing down at his feet.

  “Excuse us, sir,” Domnin added. He glanced at his own feet as well, but quickly returned his attention to Mi
ko when he realized he’d been disrespectful. “We’ve never lain eyes on an Elf before.”

  “I’m not an Elf,” Miko said. “My blood is tainted.”

  “Just because you’re half Draethel doesn’t mean you’re not an Elf. You can’t help who your parents were.”

  “Thank you. Your kindness is not necessary, but appreciated.”

  Likely unsure what to say, Domnin looked at his brother, who’d since returned his attention to the Halfling in their midst. Miko reached over and gripped Odin’s shoulder, staring into his eyes. That brief connection seemed like an eternity, but quickly passed when he turned his eyes back to the brothers. “Would you like to stay?” he asked.

  “We’ve bothered you enough,” Icklard sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “We barge in here without permission, invade your privacy and make you uncomfortable with our presence. We’ll leave.”

  “No… Icklard. Is that your name?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “There’s no need to leave. A friend of Odin’s is a friend of mine.”

  With one last smile, Miko turned and made his way deeper into the room, leaving Odin with a disturbing sense of vulnerability he hadn’t felt since Ornala.

  “Do you know where you came from?” Domnin asked, pulling a teapot off its rack in the fireplace.

  “I do not,” Miko said, accepting the cup Domnin offered. He set it to his lips, sipped its butterscotch contents, and nodded. “It’s quite good.”

  “There’s a shop in town that sells it,” Icklard said, casting a glance at Odin. “We stopped there earlier.”

  “Yup,” Odin nodded. He resisted the urge to bite the inside of his cheek.

  “Something happen to you?” Icklard asked, looking at Nova, who sat on the bed, still shirtless. “You look—”

  “Like hell,” the man laughed. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

  “Tea will fix that,” Domnin said. He accepted an empty cup his brother offered, filled it halfway, then extended his arm toward Nova.