Blood Of The Righteous

by J. E. Sandoval

  The serving girl brought over the plates of piping hot food.

  "Oh! I'll take the rabbit, if you don't mind, Phillip!"

  "Not at all, Brother."

  "Another bowl of stew for you, m'lord?"

  "Ah, yes, please," Gabriel replied. "Gentlemen, I have a good friend who failed his final test. Name of Brother Jonathan Rothschild. He was the one in our group we were sure was going to pass. If you would watch out for him, I would be in your debt."

  Phillip sprinkled some salt on his half mashed taters. "Brother, we all watch out for one another. Your friend will not be an exception. But we shall tell him that we met you, and that you send your best."

  "And my condolences, for I did not get to talk to him before he left for Coldar's Spring."

  Maxwell and Phillip looked at each other and snickered. "I think you're the one who should be receiving condolences, Brother," Maxwell said through a mouthful of rabbit. "His life is going to be much more adventurous than yours. I heard that there is an opening in the Blackguard. I’d love to fill it myself, but Brother Bradford wants some fresh, young blood. If your friend gets assigned to them, he is in for a life of adventure."

  Phillip gave a knowing nod and daintily began eating. Nobility, most likely, Gabriel thought, whereas Maxwell was probably the son of a merchant or a tradesman.

  The serving girl brought the bowl of stew and another section of warm bread. They ate their meals in relative silence, and then the two Fallen excused themselves and headed off to the men's bath, Brother Maxwell nursing his chest.

  “Old wounds giving you some trouble, Brother?” Phillip asked.

  “Nah, just a bit of discomfort. It happens every now and then…” Their voices trailed off as they walked towards the baths.

  * * * * * *

  It was evening when the Waverunner pulled into Port Cauldwell. Lady Malcoeur would buy the remaining silk and the whiskey, David thought. She was a bit of a night owl, so Karinga would see her tonight. Afterwards, David wanted to come back to the ship and knock off early. He wanted to get up before sunrise so he could procure a hawking stall in the prime space of the market. Normally he would stay in an inn tonight, but he wanted to save money, since he didn't know when he would be trading again.

  The walk to Lady Malcoeur's was uneventful. Karinga and Edge were the only two who accompanied David, as Fyke was going to arrange for the ship repairs. Johan greeted them at the door, as per usual, and invited them in.

  "Kal will be along in a minute or two,” he said, as he brought them into the waiting room. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Creamed whiskey. Please make sure its cold if possible,” David said.

  "Oh, dear God! What is that?" Karinga asked pointing to the cage in the corner. Inside, a young, orange ape sat there playing with a small stuffed doll.

  "I'll bet a silver that none of you know what it is," Lady Malcoeur said as she strode in the room, wearing a stunning silk gown.

  David walked over to the cage, fascinated. "It's an orang. This one looks like a Pongo breed, probably from a trader out of Singapore. I'd say it’s five years old, male, and looks a bit sick. What have you been feeding it, Kal?"

  Karinga rolled his eyes. He fortunately knew better than to bet against David's obscure and seemingly limitless knowledge.

  Kal sighed and flipped David a silver. "How do you know all these things? We feed it meat and bread. Why? What do they usually eat?"

  "Try giving it some fruit, and occasionally some honey and eggs. In fact, is it for sale?" David reached into the cage and the ape moved over to him to get a good scratch, which David obliged.

  "Yes, it is, actually."

  "How much?"

  "Hold it right there, Tanner!" Karinga interjected. "I'll not be having that crazy, hairy bastard on my ship!"

  "Oh, please, Captain? I'll take good care of it and clean up after it. See how much it likes me?"

  The monkey reached through the cage to give David a playful poke in the ribs.

  "No, and that's final. That bloody thing HAS to be bad luck, and it looks like it probably flings its poo!"

  The orang looked over to Karinga, stuck his tongue out, and raspberried him, which caused everyone else to laugh.

  "Fine," David said. He pet the ape one more time, then turned his attention to the matters at hand. A quick glance into the warehouse showed that Malcoeur had plenty of copper and iron ingots on hand, which she was probably anxious to get rid of. Not too much timber or wool, so metals it would be. He would be able to sell them in Normandy for four times what they were going to pay for them, which was probably twice what Malcoeur had paid. He hoped the negotiations would be quick, as he wanted to get a good start tomorrow.

  "So, Tanner, what have you got for me?" Kal said as they sat down at her desk.

  "Silk and whiskey, both of the highest quality," David replied.

  "High quality, huh? After sitting in the hold of a ship for a few weeks, I doubt the silk is high quality anymore."

  "Better quality than those moth eaten rags you've got on! And not nearly so gaudy! As to the whiskey?" David snapped his fingers and Edge handed him a bottle. "We'll all have to sample it ourselves, won't we?"

  Johan's eyes lit up, as per usual when David brought alcohol to sell. He practically did half the negotiating for him, much to the displeasure of Lady Malcoeur.

  David poured out five small shots of the dark, amber liquid. "Bottoms up!" he said, as the five of them grabbed a shot. The burning feeling in David's throat didn't last long, as he was getting used to drinking stronger drinks.

  "Oh, that is excellent," Johan said, drawing a sharp stare from Kal. "A hint of peat, but the smokiness and oak really makes the flavor come together. Can I have another?"

  David poured Johan another shot.

  "Johan, you aren't helping. Yes, Tanner, I have to admit, this is very good! But in summer, people tend to like bitters and pale ales. Hard drinks are better in the fall."

  "Which is right around the corner! Just think, you could get the drop on everyone selling it to the taverns in two short months. And remember, with this type of whiskey, letting it sit in its oak barrels for two months will only enhance its flavor."

  Kal laughed. "Two months? With Johan here, I'll have none left and not get a lick of work out of him in the mean time! I'll tell you what, I'll give you 3 gold for each cask of whiskey, and 6 gold for your silk."

  David pretended to clean his ears. "I'm sorry, Lady Malcoeur. I thought I heard you say 3 gold. My ears must be clogged, because I KNOW you can't be trying to diddle me that much. Or did that include you filling up our hold full of iron and copper too?"

  "Oh, spare me, child. How much did you pay for that whiskey? 2 gold and 5 silver?"

  David stood up. "Okay, gentlemen. We're done here."

  Lady Malcoeur rolled her eyes. "Where else are you going to sell it?"

  "We're in port for six days for repairs. I can take it to the taverns myself. Plenty of them down by the docks. It has been fun, m'lady, but I believe Master Segovax has goods to sell."

  "Sit down, boy. What do you want for them?"

  "A platinum for each bolt of silk, and don't even try to go lower on that. You know you can turn a huge profit in days." David sat back down. "As for the whiskey, there are over 400 shots in each cask. At the taverns, they will sell them for half a silver each. That is 200 silver per cask. I know you will sell it to them for 15 gold, so I figure 13 gold is low enough."

  "You've got a deal on the silk, but five gold for the whiskey."

  "Then fill our hold with copper and iron free of charge. I know you want to be rid of it! And I won't even charge you for all Johan is drinking. Seven shots, Johan? I understand why Kal doesn't want to keep the whiskey here."

  Johan burst out in drunken laughter.

  "Alright fine, you've got a deal. I'm taking
a bath on this, but your men can come get the ingots in the morning."

  David nodded. "Fine. They will bring the whiskey and silk with them.

  * * * * * *

  After six more days riding, Gabriel and Eleenia were getting close to the new border of Aragil, two days ride from Kheog, the former home of their lifelong friends, the Branvolds. Two more days and they would ride into Lystra. They had hardly said a word to one another in days as the anticipation of seeing their home became palpable.

  Up ahead, two figures were standing on the road. They weren't dressed in any kind of guard outfits, but one of them was wearing a flourishing hat with bright red feathers. They were both armed with swords. Eleenia untied her quarterstaff.

  "I don't like the looks of them, Gabriel. Robbers, most likely."

  "We represent the Church. They don't dare touch us."

  They continued to ride on up to the two men, who held their ground.

  "Stand aside," Gabriel commanded. "In the name of the Church!"

  The man with the hat removed it and bowed. "I'm sorry, m'lord, but there be a tax to get into Aragil. Just a mere ten gold apiece."

  Eleenia looked down her nose at the man. "You are oddly dressed for border guards. Perhaps you need the gold to purchase a new uniform?"

  "Indeed you are right, ma'am," said the other man. He grabbed hold of Gabriel's horse's reins. "Come on, churcher, hand over the twenty gold or we'll cut off your jumblies. Or maybe we could give you a discount if you let us have a go at this fair lass."

  Gabriel kicked the man square in the face with his boot heel, breaking his nose and sending him sprawling on his back. "Be gone with you, vile highwaymen! I have no wish for bloodshed, but press me further and you shall find your head on the ground next to your lifeless corpse!"

  "Churcher, you're going to be regretting that!" The man with the hat put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. Five more men rushed out from behind some nearby rocks, armed with knives, swords, axes, and quarterstaffs.

  Gabriel drew his sword and jumped down from his horse. The head highwayman took a few steps back and waited for his men.

  "El, go!" Gabriel shouted.

  Startled, Eleenia took his advice and rode off a fair distance. She wasn't going to abandon him, but needed to get a safe distance away, mainly to give him room. She had seen Gabriel fight, but seven on one might be too much for even a swordsman of his caliber.

  The men quickly surrounded Gabriel. The head highwayman once again showed his cocky attitude. "Seven against one, church knight! Hardly a fair fight, eh?"

  "Yes, hardly a fair fight. If you want to go get more, I understand."

  The robbers broke into laughter.

  "Just remember," Gabriel said, looking a few of them in the eye. "You are going to have to kill me before I give up. And for your act of murder, your souls will burn in the fires of hell for all eternity!"

  The robbers gave pause and glanced at their leader.

  "Bullocks! You could choose to pay up, but instead, you are forcing us to kill you! So your death shall be on your own hands!"

  "That makes no sense at all, ruffian. And I promise you, if you attack, I shall be the one walking away from this." Gabriel glanced at the men behind him through their reflections on his polished blade.

  "Get 'im!"

  Gabriel sprang into action, attacking the two men behind him. Spinning, he thrust out his sword. His momentum carried his blade through the first man's throat, cutting four inches deep, and biting into the shorter man's temple, who dropped like a stone, twitching as Gabriel yanked his sword out of his skull.

  Seeing their comrade gurgle his lifeblood out of the gaping wound in his throat, and the other shaking on the ground in a growing puddle of blood like a man with palsy, gave the other four bandits pause.

  "Wait!" screamed the man with the broken nose, hauling himself up off the ground. "He's mine!" He charged in at Gabriel, swinging wildly. Gabriel knocked his blows away, jumped to his side, and sliced downwards, taking the man's hands at the wrist. He screamed and fell to the ground.

  The axe-wielding bandit took a chop at Gabriel, who stepped back and swung upwards. Another scream met Gabriel's ears as he swung his sword upwards, slicing deep into the man's groin. A quick swipe to his right dragged his sword across the abdomen of a bandit who was wielding two knives, disemboweling him.

  The bandit leader stabbed at Gabriel, who batted away his attack and countered with a swing at his neck. His head fell to the ground as his lifeless body crumpled.

  "Hold!" one of the last two men screamed at seeing their leader killed. "Spare us! Please, show mercy, mighty Defender!"

  "Drop your weapons!" Both men immediately complied.

  "As one of the rules of my order is that I must show mercy to all who ask, I shall spare you. However, as punishment for daring attack a man of the Church, remove your clothing.

  The two men looked at one another, unsure.

  "Now!" Gabriel barked. He gave two quick slices and the men's pants both fell, the rope holding them up cut clean through. "Do it or I shall do it for you."

  Both men removed their tunics and boots, stepping out of their pants.

  "And your smalls."

  Red-faced, they did so, and stood in front of him with their hands over their manhoods.

  "Now be off with you." They ran in the direction of Gillingham, past a laughing Eleenia.

  * * * * * *

  The dungeons of Daggermount were infamous throughout Aragil. Given King Dorian’s love of public executions of malcontents and rabble-rousers, many of the cells and torture rooms were now empty, giving Dameus the perfect place to work. Plenty of dark energy residue from the years gone by, and no one to bother him. The last four years had almost been tolerable.

  Dameus leaned over the fresh corpse. Another failure. Tolinar was close to producing an undead that retained its soul. He couldn't let Tolinar beat him to it. Four years of failure after failure. One day soon.

  A messenger burst into the cold crypt-like torture room. "My lord, I have urgent news!"

  "Damn it." He rolled a rag around in his bloody hands. "Well, spit it out!"

  The messenger averted his eyes from the necromancer's gaze. Something about him just wasn't natural. "My lord, the children of Alexander and Arianna Ki Kalendeen have entered the borders of Aragil."

  Dameus heaved a sigh, looking at his most recent failure. Another distraction. Still, Kadeus’ orders were clear. "I don't have time for this,” he muttered under his breath. “No matter. We shall go and tell the king, then I assume we shall be transporting to Ironshield to inform General Sagoroth. I suspect there will be a new law written about the children of traitors.

  “If they visit their family crypt, they’ll be in for a nasty surprise. Now, tell me what you know of these two.”

  * * * * * *

  Later that night, Gabriel stared almost trance-like into the fire, his still-bloodied sword discarded on the ground. "Where are my feelings? I should be wracked with remorse right now for murdering those men."

  Eleenia looked up from her history book she was reading by the light of the fire. "Gabriel, had you not killed them, they would have killed you and passed me around the campfire like a bottle of cheap Caledonian whiskey. And you didn't murder them, you killed them."

  "Same thing. I broke the sixth Commandment."

  "No, you didn't," El replied. "The original Hebrew, 'ratsakh', means the taking of life through murder!"

  Gabriel sighed. "I know. And you're right. Deuteronomy 20:16-17 shows that we can kill if commanded. And 13:5! "

  "Exactly," El said with a smirk. "So don't fret over it."

  "Yes, I know. I shouldn't. I'm turning in."

  El noticed that Gabriel didn't clean the blood off
of his sword, a weapon he usually kept immaculate. She hoped he would snap out of it soon.

  "So what are you going to tell David when you find him?"

  Gabriel's eyes lit up a bit. "I hadn't thought of it! I suppose I'll ask him where he has been these last four years and let him know that he is safe now and come back to Avonshire with us." He picked up his sword and absent-mindedly started cleaning it. "I'm sure he will be positively thrilled that we came and found him!"

  El smiled. Gabriel would be fine.

  * * * * * *

  "Remember, Tanner, we sail at first light tomorrow with the morning tide."

  "I'll be ready, Captain. I've only got a crate of goods left to sell, and I should have that sold by midday." David stood in the hawking stall in the busy market, getting ready for a day of haggling.

  Karinga nodded, and walked off to hire a few last carpenters and sail menders. Truth be told, the ship was ready to go right now, but Karinga wanted everything to be perfect while they were here, as it was to be docked for most likely over a month. They were fully crewed and the ingots were stowed in the hold. The Waverunner was weighed down pretty heavily, with an extra five feet of her under water. The bilgemen would be earning their pay on this journey.

  "Step up, ladies and gentlemen! Get some of the best-tasting tinned meats and seafood you've ever tasted! Gylinian sausages so good, they will melt in your mouth! Flaky fish stuffed with crab meat! Come up now and taste a sample!" David started attracting attention, a few people coming up and sampling his wares.

  "Tanner! Good to see you again!" said a man in a torn tunic and saggy pants, a black Moorish man at his side.

  David's eyes lit up. "Captain Armstrong! How's business?"

  "Not as good as yours, it seems! You've really cleaned up here!"

  "And how's my favorite Moor today, Cassim?" he said, extending his hand.

  "He is well, I am sure. As am I, my friend." the black man said with a wide smile, taking David's hands.

  "Setting sail soon?" asked Armstrong.

  "Tomorrow. We're off to Port Cirril. You?"

  "We are setting off in the Crimson Moon tonight. Down to New Portsmouth to deliver some whiskey, silk, and rum for Lady Malcouer, then we're going to pick up some livestock and bring it back for her."