Age of Valor: Blood Purge

by D. E. Morris

Vala nodded and sniffled, wiping away the last of her newly fallen tears as she considered his words. “I'll try. Sarcasm has never been a strong suit of mine.”

  “You'll get it. Until then, try little jokes now and then. Be extra careful not to push certain buttons. You'll be all right.”

  With a small, shy smile, she looked up at Jaryn. “Thank you, Your Majesty. And thank you for not making me feel ashamed or embarrassed just now.”

  “We all have moments where we just need to be alone and let our feelings out.”

  “Even you?”

  He nodded. “Even me. There's no shame in that.”

  Vala lowered her lashes. “All the same, thank you.” Looking up, she raised herself as high as she could on her tip-toes and kissed his lips before he had time to react. Once more, Jaryn found himself so shocked that his thoughts froze, but this time they did not stay that way. In a mere fraction of a second, he grasped her firmly by the shoulders and pushed her away, holding her before him with a stern glare.

  “What are you doing?” His exclamation must have made the guards move for the sound of armor shifting behind him, but he released Vala enough to raise a hand to keep them where they were.

  Vala covered her mouth and took a step back, her round eyes growing even rounder at the realization of what she'd just done. “Your Majesty...oh my goodness...I am so sorry! I...” Her breathing sped so quickly that it looked like she might hyperventilate. “I can't believe I just did that. Only, you've been so kind to me, and you saved my life that day in the market at the games. I never knew how to thank you. Other kings – most kings, in fact – have mistresses, and-”

  “I am not most kings,” he impressed. “I love my wife and would never even dream of taking a mistress.”

  “Oh, I am most surely done for now!”

  As tears began again, Jaryn lifted his head to the vaulted ceiling with a soft moan. “For goodness sake, Vala, stop crying. It was a mistake. You're young. You make them all the time and you're going to continue making them. If you turn into a puddle of mush every time it happens, you are in for a very rough life.”

  “I only wanted to thank you!”

  “You do not have to.”

  She lowered her hands, desperation on her face. “Please don't tell the queen! She'll have my head!”

  “Aye, she will if I don't put it to her in the right way, but we don't keep secrets from each other. We learned that makes for a bad marriage. Now stop that wailing. You're a lady, aren't you?” He reached into his jerkin to pull out a clean handkerchief. “Here. Dry your face. Take a breath.”

  She muttered a weak, “Thank you,” as she took the proffered kerchief. As she pressed the fabric to her face, there came the soft pad of leather shoes out in the hallway, announcing the arrival of someone else.

  “Jaryn.” The accent was Ibayish, and the familiarity with which the male spoke could only suggest it to be one person. Turning around, Jaryn saw the spiked blue hair of his brother-in-law before he registered the human side of Elas' face or the scales that ran down the other half of his body. “Here you are. I've been looking all over for you.” Vala chose that moment to step around Jaryn. She looked at Elas with no expression, but when she turned to Jaryn, she gave him another tiny smile before handing him back his handkerchief.

  “Thank you again, Your Majesty.” Gathering the layers of her skirts in her hands, she gave him a deep curtsy before leaving the room. Elas was only given a simple nod and a quiet, “Your Grace,” before she disappeared altogether.

  Elas turned accusing eyes to Jaryn as soon as she was gone. “Was I interrupting something?”

  The very thought of it made Jaryn snort. “Don't be ridiculous. What are you thinking?”

  “You were standing in a poorly lit room alone with one of Ashlynn's very young, very pretty ladies. You know what I am thinking.”

  Jaryn sighed and shook his head. There was no point in even addressing the matter. They both knew Jaryn would never stray, but Elas had a temper that was quick to flare in recent years. Tense situations tended to make it worse. What was the use in trying to explain himself when it was clear an opinion had already been formed? “I like to think you know me better than that, brother.”

  “So do I.”

  As they started down the hall, the guards fell into step behind them. “Why were you looking for me?” Jaryn asked, hoping to change to subject, but Elas was not so quick to let it go.

  “You have not denied anything.”

  Jaryn stopped and turned to face Elas, looking down on him with his chin jutting forward. “I am denying it now. I have never, nor would I ever, be with anyone but my wife. I do not take my vows lightly.”

  Elas, unbothered by the man glaring down at him, only raised a brow. “That's not what it looked like.”

  Cold, Jaryn's eyes traveled down the scarred and scaled side of Elas' face. “Things often look one way when they are another way entirely.” Turning, he walked on. In a matter of seconds, Elas growled and came up behind him, grabbing Jaryn by the arm to whip him around. The two guards started forward to seize him, but Jaryn was quick and had Elas up against the wall with his forearm to his neck much faster than they could try to restrain the water dragon.

  “Ashlynn already has enough guard dogs,” Jaryn panted, struggling against Elas as he tried to free himself. “She doesn't need another one in you. What you saw was nothing. You may choose to believe it or you may not. That is entirely up to you. I know you have this pent up rage in you. You've had it for years and it's getting worse as time goes by, but I promise you, Elas, you do not want to take it out on me. We are much too close, you and I, and I will have no problem knocking you right down on your arse where you belong if you cross me. Now if you're done peacocking around, I'd like to let you go so we can actually talk about why you were after me to begin with. Deal?”

  Elas was glaring at him as though he could bore through Jaryn with the heat of his fury. Then, all at once, a sinister grin spread across his face and he stopped struggling. DEAL.

  The telepathic word was practically shouted, making Jaryn stumble back with a cry and sandwich his head between his hands. “You putrid clump of dung mold...”

  “That was your own fault,” snarled Elas, rubbing his neck. He glanced at the guards who watched the situation with uncertainty but made no move to interfere. “You really should numb yourself to telepathy more.”

  “If I could see less than three of you right now, I'd give you a right hook to the face.”

  Despite the situation, Elas chuckled and stepped away from the wall. “You could always take a gamble. That could be entertaining.” He took a deep, slow breath and shook his head. “I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking.”

  “You were being protective,” Jaryn conceded, rubbing his eyes with a wince. “You know nothing was happening, right?”

  Elas nodded slowly. “I believe you. But you know what it looked like.”

  It was impossible not to laugh, even a little. “Oh no, I am well aware. That was my own fault. I'll tell Ashlynn about it myself tonight.” He straightened and scrubbed his hands over his face before blinking hard a few times to clear his vision. “Well, I'm awake. Now, what was it you wanted?”

  “Connor and Killian wanted to go over their maps with you. Apparently, Connor thinks he may have found a new landmark or two.” Elas grimaced. “It took me so long to find you, I don't doubt Connor's already out looking for you himself. He doesn't have a lot of patience, that kid.”

  There was companionable chatter between them as they went along, any tension that had built up between them all but forgotten. Jaryn told Elas every bit of what had happened with Vala, making sure to leave nothing out. Though her actions shocked Elas, Jaryn told him that she was not wrong in her ways of thinking. Many kings, both lesser and higher kept more than one mistress, often in the same castles where their wives slept and raised their children. Vala was only acting according to the way she assumed all kingdoms worked, probably hoping
for favor and not really looking to ruin anything between him and Ashlynn. He didn't think ill of her for it, in fact, he pitied her that she thought that might be all she believed she was worth. Still, Elas promised to keep his eye out and make sure they were never in a room alone together again, something to which Jaryn happily agreed.

  As they were descending to the fourth floor of the southern wing, they met Killian along the way. Though the two men greeted him with easy smiles, Killian's return expression was one of gravity. He beckoned them to follow him without the offer of an explanation and hurried them to the northern wing. As they started down to the first floor, the realization of where they were going struck Jaryn and he held out a hand to Elas. “Go back upstairs.” Elas did not question him, nor did he argue. It was one of the things that was most appreciated about him. If he was given an order it was taken without hesitation.

  Killian had paused to wait for Jaryn. As soon as he saw him coming once more, he started down the final hallways that would take them to the room where the injured husband and child had been recuperating. The men stationed outside opened the doors when they saw Jaryn approaching and stepped aside. Waiting for them inside were the husband and the girl still in bed, but no longer alive. There were more people coming down the hall; the swish of fabric could be heard and the clicking of women's shoes, but Jaryn wasn't quick enough to keep Ashlynn from entering to see the gruesome sight that awaited her.

  “Jaryn,” she said, coming into the room. “Cailin told me...” She trailed off as her head swiveled toward the bed. Gasping, she took a step back and lifted a hand to cover her mouth. “Oh, good heavens!” Both the man and the child lay under the covers on their backs, their faces to the ceiling with their mouths open. Blood had pooled within and leaked out to run in rivers down the sides of their faces, out of their ears and noses. Their wide eyes were only empty, blood-filled sockets that had also leaked and congealed as they sat undisturbed.

  “Get her out of here,” Jaryn commanded with quiet calm.

  Killian stepped in front of her to block her view of the bodies. He stretched his arms out to his sides as though shepherding her out into the hall, but this did nothing to get her out of the room. She only sidestepped him as though he wasn't even there. When he went to grab her arm, she glared at him so venomously that he immediately retracted his hand and let her go. “Ashlynn,” Jaryn groaned as she walked past him toward the bed.

  “It is Rabia powder. I am sure of it.”

  “The powder you used to kill Tadhg?” Killian asked.

  She nodded, her eyes trailing over the bodies in sorrow. Crouching, she reached out and took the man's face in her hand to tilt it slightly away from her, much to the distress of the two men watching her. “Calm down,” she chastened, eyeing the man's head critically. “It has to be ingested to be of any danger.” Her lips pursed as she let him go and looked over him to the child. “They were fine just this morning, and now... They had to have been given a great deal all at once in order for this to have happened, just like...” She trailed off, feeling the bile rise in her throat.

  “What is it?” Jaryn asked.

  For a moment she looked like she might be sick. “I know what it does to the body at that point. I know the pain, and how the person dying desperately wants to cry out for help but legitimately cannot because their insides are...” She looked at all of the blood that had come pouring from their bodies. It didn't need to be said what had happened to their insides.

  “Who has been in here?” Killian asked of the two guards at the door.

  “Only a serving girl.”

  Jaryn frowned. “A familiar one?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. She has been working here as long as I have, I am certain.”

  Sweeping the room with his gaze, Killian found a tray of food on the table by the bedside where Ashlynn crouched. He crossed the room to examine what was left on the wooden platter to find eggs and fruit that had barely been eaten. Using the back of one finger, he touched the eggs, then looked at the couple. “Cold.”

  “And likely have been for a while,” Ashlynn said quietly. “The blood in the eyes has a thick top layer, which means it has been undisturbed for some time.”

  Killian took a step closer to the bed to get a better look and kicked something that was partially hidden under the frame. It rolled with a heavy wooden cadence that made him lean to the side to examine the noise. Ashlynn looked as well, seeing a goblet that must have fallen and a pool of wine by her foot. As Killian reached for the goblet, she gasped and shot to her feet, taking a step back.

  “It's in the wine.”

  Jaryn and Killian both looked at her, neither of them certain they had heard her correctly. “What?” her husband asked.

  “It's in the wine.” She pointed to the nightstand on the child's side of the bed where a similar goblet sat. “Just like before. The wine! Send word to the kitchens! Stop the wine from being given out!” The guards that had followed her to the room rushed away to carry out her command, Jaryn and his own men close behind.

  “Stay with her!” he told Killian before disappearing.

  Ashlynn linked her fingers together to form a large fist beneath her nose, her attention focused on the bodies as she ran numbers through her head. “It's too late,” she said after a moment. “Killian, it's far too late. Given how long these bodies must have lain here, they were poisoned right around the same time we were all feasting, if not just before.”

  “There was plenty of wine to go around at supper,” The corners of Killian's lips turned down. “If anyone else was poisoned-”

  “Casper!”

  One of the guards in the hall fell to the floor in a loud clanging heap as the other lurched forward to try to help. Ashlynn and Killian moved at the same time, hastening out into the hallway to see the elder of the two guards holding the younger as blood ran from his nose. “Turn him on his side,” Ashlynn told the man, kneeling to help. She was calm, flinching back only slightly even when Casper coughed up blood that spattered against the skirt of her dress. “Can you breathe, Casper? Can you hear me?” The young guard nodded, making her nod in turn. “Good. That is very good. Is there pain anywhere?” When he nodded again, a flash of worry crossed her features. “Where is it? Try not to speak, but this is very important. Is the pain in your head or in your chest – in your belly, perhaps?” He touched his stomach, bringing relief to her face. “Good. That is very good, Casper.”

  “What does that mean?” Killian asked.

  “Only that he's had enough Rabia to make him quite ill for a while but certainly not enough to kill him. The nose bleed is slightly concerning. When Kenayde and I were testing it out on Briac to determine the strength needed for Tadhg, something similar-”

  A sharp, high-pitched scream cut through the quiet of the halls. Killian drew his sword. “Stay here,” he told Ashlynn before racing in the direction of the scream. She hesitated for barely a second before following directly after. Before either of them could reach the foyer, more screams followed, shouts of alarm and terror began coming one after the other. People began staggering into the halls, men and women of all ages, some of them even children. A door opened as Ashlynn was passing and a young woman with long red hair came stumbling out, blood pouring from her mouth, her eyes, and her nose. She reached blindly in front of her as she fell forward, almost knocking into Ashlynn, but Killian grabbed her quickly enough to pull her to safety.

  “Did you drink any of the wine?” he asked, his voice ragged and quick.

  “No. I haven't since...” It was foolish to feel anything but terror in the moment, but she was keenly aware of Killian's feelings toward her. For a long time, it didn't matter, but because he had become like a member of the family, she hated hurting him.

  “Since you and the king have been trying to have another child,” he finished for her, watching the madness unfold around them while trying to shield her from it. “That is good. What about the king?”

  “I don't know.”r />
  “We must find him and the prince. Stay close.”

  Altaine was filling with a building chorus of ghastly wails. Some were waking to find loved ones bleeding and dying beside them. Others were all but rendered incapacitated by their own pain as the searing poison of the Rabia powder began eating through their insides. It was not uncommon during seasons of rain to find puddles of water throughout the castle, but this night, there were pools of blood nearly everywhere Ashlynn ran. Her shoes were soaked and the hem of her gown was crusted with things she couldn't bear to think on.

  “Help me,” cried a young woman from behind. Her night shirt was covered in blood and her blond hair was caked in some sort of viscous fluid. Ashlynn slowed, prepared to see how she could be of use, but Killian hooked an arm around her waist to pull her along. The woman screamed after her with sobs of helplessness. “My sister!” the woman cried. “My sister is dying!”

  Each floor they reached, more victims were found. It was as though she was walking through a living nightmare as she searched for her husband among the infected. Blood-soaked individuals with enough strength stumbled through the halls. They smelled of blood and vomit. All of them reached and begged for help that she had to turn a blind eye to while Killian blocked their advances. Most had crumpled to the floor wherever they lost their strength to continue on. She thought she would never get the sounds of everyone screaming and crying from her head.

  On their way up to the fifth floor of the north wing, a boy no older than thirteen was sunken against the wall in the stairwell. He had just gone into convulsions and was drooling saliva and blood. Killian's grip around Ashlynn tightened in anticipation of her reaction, but she fought against him, pushing into his ribs with the heel of her hand. “Let me help him,” she pleaded desperately. Something in her voice must have roused enough compassion to loosen his arm. His head swiveled both ways as he let her go, then knelt with her to ease the boy onto his side to clear his airways of what had built up in this throat.

  “There you are,” Ashlynn soothed, brushing shaggy brown hair from the young man's face. “You'll be all right now.”