“One stroke of the sword? That is unheard of, even for knights.”
“It was unusual. He just…fell.”
“How did you get the wounds? They look too solitary to be from a dragon.”
I continue to fixate on the thread, unsure of how to proceed.
“And what of Banes?”
We turn to see Keeper standing in the doorway. How long has he been listening? Thorn remains on the edge of the bed, looking back at me with the same curiosity that plays in Keeper’s hooded eyes.
“He is dead.” Keeper says.
“Dead? How?” Thorn asks in shock.
“He attacked me, after I’d slain the dragon.” I say.
Keeper steps forward. “Tell us.”
Taking a deep breath I shut my eyes pulling the harrowing memory to the forefront of my mind. “I got off my horse once I’d killed the dragon to inspect it. An arrow went flying past my face, I turned to find Banes. He fired again, and again, striking both my cheek and my leg, rendering me immobile, though only for seconds. I looked up to find him getting on his mare, headed to the fort. I remounted Stallum and followed him. Once he caught on that I was close he started faster and diverted his course from the fort. We were nearly half way up the mountains at the border of Winterstrand, deepening in snow.” My voice trails off. Keeper and Thorn listen intently.
“Snow wolves surrounded him. He warned me that he would not allow us both to return to the fort, I warned the same. They attacked him before he could notice. His horse ran off, bitten and bleeding. The others surrounded Banes. He fought off a few but more showed up in their wake. He pleaded for my help.”
Thorn’s face distorts into a mixture of horror and disbelief. What I can see of Keeper’s expression remains steady.
“I could not help him without putting myself in grave danger. I had to make a choice.”
Thorn stands and turns towards the fire. Banes harrowing scream rips across my mind.
“Thorn, leave us.” Keeper says. Without question Thorn storms out of the room. Keeper leans in close to the bed. “I told you to be wary of whom you trust.”
“I made the right decision.”
“I am not arguing that. I agree that you did. Yet you would not have been forced to make such a decision had your trust been properly placed to begin with.”
“I’m not so sure I can even trust you.” I state.
He pulls his face back. I can sense the anger ripping through him. “You place your trust in that fool who tries to kill you, tries to leave you for dead. I stand here warning you of such things, cleaning your wounds, bringing you food, agreeing with your decision to let him die and it is me you do not trust?” He stands backing away from the bed. “I am not the enemy.” He plants his feet in front of the fire, casting a shadow over his broad shoulders that dances on the wall. I’m too exhausted for this charade with him.
“What of my horse?” I ask changing the subject.
“She is safe in the stables.” Without looking to me he turns from the fireplace and heads for the main door. “You should get some rest.” He exits the room, all but slamming the door upon his leave. I lay back on the pillows, drifting to sleep.
“Father?”
“Yes, Jaria?” He looks up at me from his soup bowl. His eyes are heavily worn with lack of sleep and signs of being over worked.
“Do you remember when mother used to bake pies?”
He places his spoon down, lifting a napkin to his chin and dabbing. “You haven’t spoken of your mother in nearly thirty years. I was beginning to think you had suppressed all memory of her after what happened.”
I lower my head letting long strands of silken black hair shield my face from his heartbreaking gaze. “I have not forgotten…I have seen her in dreams, picking apples in the woods. She used to come home with baskets filled to the brim of the most beautiful apples.”
The faintest trace of a smile crosses his face.
“The smell of the pies was always my favorite.”
He nods with a laugh in his throat, “Me too.”
“Father?”
“Yes?”
“Do you remember that little boy who used to come over? The one from the foster home, with blonde hair and blue eyes?”
A deep sigh exhales from his nostrils. “Yes, of course.” He pushes his soup bowl aside placing his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together. “Why do you ask?”
I lift my eyes to look at him. “What happened to him?”
“Helwain sent all the children of the foster home to the other sanctums, remember?”
“Yes but that night, Helwain was carrying me back home and the boy was there. He took his hand and traded him off to one of his guards in front of Dragon’s Den. It was strange. The boy was screaming and crying.”
“I’m sure they took him back to the foster home.”
“I don’t believe they did. Father, did they kill that little boy?”
“I wouldn’t know.” He stands grabbing both our soup bowls and walks them to the sink.
With our backs to one another I force up the courage to ask, “Why did they kill mom?”
He does not reply. I stand and turn to face him, his back still to me as he holds himself up over the sink.
“Father?”
“I wasn’t sure the day would ever come where you would ask. In fact, I was hoping it wouldn’t.”
“I want to know,” I reach my hand out to clasp his, “please.”
With red cheeks and puffy eyes he turns and walks back to his chair at the table, taking a seat. “Back before the Realm was immortal, before the Seven Saints had come into legend, Lady Akidira ruled the Seven Sanctums. She was powerful with a spell and wise and beautiful beyond her years. She ruled peacefully over the seventh sanctum before the return of the blood dragons. It was said that should the Lady of the Sanctums ever gave birth to a son, her reign would pass onto him. With this, a power so unyielding and immeasurable would surge through him, giving him the ability to protect the Seven Sanctums long after her passing.”
“Lady Akidira never had a son. She was never even married.”
“Yes, she was never married. Which, in order to rightfully pass her reign onto a son, she must first have been wed to his father, a lord.”
“What happened?”
“Lady Akidira had a secret affair with one of the men in the village right before the return of the blood dragons. She was with child when the dragon attacked. She cast the spell of immortality in hopes to protect herself and her unborn child, thus protecting the future of the Seven Sanctums. She gave birth in secret a few months later. Having been without a lord, she was forced to bequeath the child to a foster home to protect his identity and her secret. She left him in a basket on the doorstep of the foster home in the middle of the night.”
“Is that why she died? Did someone find out and assassinate her?”
“Some believe so, yes. Others disregard that theory altogether for she was protected eternally by the spirit of Connar. It is believed she just disappeared one night merely faking her death while she continued to live on outside the Realm.” He placed a weathered hand atop mine. “Jaria, that little boy who bought the pies was her son.”
XIV: Dream
¶I awake from a fever dream, drenched in sweat. Echoes of screams swirl in my mind. Dameon. Banes. They haunt my sleep. I sit up and pull the curtains across every direction of the bed, letting air in. It’s just before dawn. Keeper’s door clicks open.
“You’re awake?” He looks to me with surprise in his voice, an emotion I had previously not heard from him.
“Yes. And you’re here.”
He nods pulling up his gloves. “Yes.”
I stand walking to the sink in the bathroom. Cool water pours out of the faucet, I splash it over my face.
“Another bad dream?”
“What makes you say that?” I splash water down my neck and chest, washing off the sweat.
“You have been making sound
s in your sleep. Your linens are also drenched nightly.”
“You look at my dirty linens?” I scour at him.
He says nothing for a moment. “I notice them, yes. How are your wounds today?” I look at myself in the mirror and peel the gauze from my cheek to find a fresh scar healing underneath stitches. “Better.”
He motions to my thighs. “And the one on your leg?”
I cross my arms at him, “None of your business.”
He lifts his hands at me surrendering. “Forgive me for tending to your wounds and inquiring about them. I care only for your safety.” He proceeds to the door. “Get ready, the wizard would like to see you today.”
I straighten my posture. “The wizard? Why?”
He shrugs at me. “Go see him and find out.”
New under armor fills my drawers. I pull out a thick pair of pants and long sleeved top adorned with the fort symbol to wear. My leather boots will suit my look today. Walking into the dining hall I find Danny and Thorn along with three other knights I have yet to get to know huddled close to the fireplace.
“Jaria!” Danny pipes up running around the table to embrace me.
“Be careful, she’s wounded.” Thorn warns.
“It’s fine.” I return his embrace.
“My lady! I’m so sorry, I was about to bring you breakfast in your quarters!” Roger runs out of the kitchen in a tizzy.
“I will be dining in the hall with my fellow knights this morning.”
He smiles under his thick white moustache. “Very good, my lady, very good.”
I sit across from Thorn, who’s sloughing through a bowl of grits, or something resembling grits.
“Hey,” I ease my sore legs down into the seat.
“Morning.” He half-smiles at me.
“So what happened yesterday? Banes never came back…I heard he’s dead.” Danny leans in whispering.
“It’s safe to say he’s dead.” I confirm.
Danny’s eyes widen at me. “Really? Did you see what happened?”
Thorn and I look to one another for a moment.
“Yes, and that’s all I care to say about it.”
Danny swallows a piece of dried toast and stands with his tray. “I understand. Something always seemed off about him, it’s for the best you were the only one to return.”
I gaze up at Danny, a little shocked by his answer.
“Danny! Stable work, now!” Keeper yells from the entryway.
Danny stands. “I’m just glad you’re ok.” He places a hand on my shoulder before returning his tray to Roger and exiting the hall.
“That was quite mature of him.” Thorn says placing his elbows on either side of his tray as he rips into a piece of meat.
“Yes, it was.”
Roger walks over sliding a tray full of food in front of me along with a steaming cup of tea. “He’s very fond of you, that boy.” Roger nods toward the entryway. “Take good care of him should he ever see battle.”
“I will.”
“Seems you’ve developed quite the following.” Thorn says once Roger has returned to the kitchen.
“I suppose so.”
“Well, you’ve earned it. And listen,” he places a thick hand on mine as I reach for my fork. “About last night, I apologize. I did not know Banes very well personally, but others have all told me similar tales of him. I believe you did the right thing and I do not hold it against you.” He takes his hand off mine, returning to ripping meat off bone.
“Thank you.” Is all I can manage to say.
After breakfast I walk through the entryway to the apothecary to find the wizard waiting for me. He stands in front of the large rounded table with patterns carved into the surface. Pulling vials of this and that from the shelves. A swirling red smoke with the faintest shimmer fills the air above him. The smell of fresh cherries drifts through the room.
“Wizard?” I knock on the door, alerting him to my presence.
“Oh yes, come in my lady, come in!” He runs to me pulling my wrists until I’m standing by his side at the table.
“Keeper said you wanted to see me?” I inhale the concoction before us.
“Yes, this is for you.” He lifts the bottle between our eyes. Transparent, vivid red liquid fills it to the halfway mark.
“What is it?” I take the bottle from him as he wanders back to the door and shuts it, leaving us alone.
“Your sword, I was looking at it down in the armory when the blacksmith was fitting it for a sheath. The lightning…it’s extraordinary how it’s just trapped in the blade.”
“I’m not fully sure how it will affect the sword just yet.”
“That may be, but what I am more intrigued by at the moment is how it affected you.”
I cock my head at him. His eyes are fixated on mine.
“What do you mean?” I placate.
“My dear,” he leans down his thin oval spectacles, “I can see the same bolt flicker on the periphery of your eyes. You too, inhabit the lighting, just as the sword.”
“I hadn’t thought anyone noticed.” I say low.
“Does anyone else know?”
“Thorn. He saw it one night.”
“Who?”
“Thornain. The blonde man who came here with me.”
“Oh, yes. Has he told anyone else?”
“No.” I place the bottle on the table and nervously brush long locks behind my ear. “Wizard, can you tell me what this will do to me?”
He takes his glasses off, folding them neatly as he slips them into a purple velvet pocket. “I have not seen this particular case before, no. It is very interesting. You haven’t noticed any side effects?”
I shake my head curling in my lips. “Nothing.”
“This potion I made for you,” he holds out a hand to the bottle of red liquid on the table, “should help with all of your current ailments. It will heal the brand on your arm and help close other wounds as well. You will not be entirely rid of scarring, especially not from the brand. However newer wounds will have less permanent damage.” He gestures towards the cut on my face. “Go ahead and drink it.”
I pick up the vial, tossing the cherry liquid to the back of my throat. “Thank you.”
“Tell me, the sword, have you ever seen it affect those you strike as if they were hit by lightning?”
“Once, yes, in the tomb. When I was fighting the darkened ones. Though when I struck the dragon near the city, I saw nothing.”
“Perhaps you saw nothing because there was nothing to see. Vampiric Elves have translucent skin, whereas the skin of a black dragon is thicker than our bones. It could have had the same effect.”
“Possible, but I’m still unsure.” I set the bottle down and fidget with my fingers on the table. “Something else happened after the dragon went down that puzzles me.”
“What is it my dear?” He asks, intrigued.
“Wizard…” I lean in close, wary of what I’m about to reveal. “The dragon spoke to me. I know how it must sound, but I heard it’s voice in my head clear as day as it was looking at me.”
He leans back with an accepting expression, something I did not anticipate. “Then it is true. You are a dragon caller.”
“A dragon caller?”
“Yes, it was said that the Knight Divine would have such a power, a power that knights of old once had. It was merely speculated until now. Have you told anyone else of this?”
I shake my head. “No one.”
He smacks the table with the palm of his hand. “Good, for now keep it that way. As for the lightning, it has proven of use in the blade, have you tried harnessing it within yourself?”
“No. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“Go out to the forest today, alone, and try. Try anything you can to concentrate on it. If you have success, let me know.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Exiting the apothecary I make my way outside to the stables. Some time alone isn’t a bad idea.
&nb
sp; “Hey Jaria! Taking Stallum out today?” Danny opens the stable gate for me.
“Yes. Alone this time.”
He pulls Stallum from her stall and places the saddle on her. “Good thinking.” Tightening both sides he gives me the go ahead as I step into the stirrups pulling myself up. “Where’s your sword?”
“Right here.” We turn to see Keeper making his way over with my sword, sheath and belt.
“I don’t need that.” I protest walking to the gate on Stallum to meet him.
“Yes, you do.” He holds it up to me with an icy stare beneath his hood. “What happened last time you didn’t listen to me?”
Relinquishing a sigh I take the sword from him and pull it around my waist.
“Where are you riding to?”
“The forest.”
“Alone?”
“Yes, alone.”
Why was he always interrogating me like a prisoner?
“Which forest? Not the snow heavy woods leading to Winterstrand, I hope.”
We stare at one another for a moment. I know what he’s getting at. “No, I’m going east towards the fields.”
Danny looks hesitantly between us.
“Danny, this conversation no longer concerns you. I think the horses need your attention more than we do.” Keeper places a gloved hand on Danny’s frail shoulder. Danny looks to me. I give him a nod reassuring him as he turns back to his work.
“You don’t need to speak to him like that. He’s just a boy.”
“A boy who has to learn to become a knight.”
“He is learning.”
“Do not be foolish. He is not ready.” He stands back opening the gate. “Be back before dusk.”
I smack the reins without another word heading away from the fort. Turning to the right I pull Stallum south, away from Winterstrand so Keeper can see. We head down the hill and out of sight. Blowing through the fields outside the city I stop and turn towards it. You can’t even tell there was a dragon attack just the other day. It looks like business as usual, at least from this far away. “Come on girl, we’ve got an old friend to visit.” I turn her south towards the inn and stables.
The Writings of Assassination: Book One Page 17
