Where Serpents Strike (Children of the Falls Vol. 1)

by CW Thomas

  The captain left along with Pick and Stoneman, leaving Dana and Brayden behind.

  Brayden exhaled through puffed cheeks as he ran his fingers through his long brown hair. While he paced away from her she could see the frustration seeping off his shoulders.

  “I don’t wish to speak ill of our father,” Dana began, “but it’s his fault, not yours.”

  “What is?”

  “Father always lavished you with attention and instruction. What did he give to Broderick? A cold shoulder? Disinterest?”

  Brayden scowled at her. “No. Father never did that.”

  “Perhaps you didn’t notice, but Broderick was always trying hard to steal some of father’s attention away from you.” She gestured toward the open barn doors. “Have you noticed how well they’ve bonded?”

  “Broderick and Clint?”

  “They spend more time together than anyone. Clint has become Broderick’s alternative to… well…” She stopped, not wanting to say it.

  “Me.”

  Dana stayed quiet.

  A moment later, Brayden asked, “Why? I don’t understand. What’s Broderick see in him that—”

  “Strength,” Dana said. “It’s the wrong kind of strength, but he sees power in Clint. He needs to see that from you, Brayden. So do the others. Khalous is right, they need to know they can trust you.”

  Brayden looked defeated as he wandered over to a wall of tools and picked up the broom. He went about sweeping up the mess of splintered wood in silence. Dana helped him cut down the ropes and put away the cowbells.

  When they were done, Brayden slipped away. Dana decided to give him some space and left him alone.

  Dana went to the chapel. She wandered through the columned cloister off the west wing that encircled a lush green flower garden. The summer was almost over—her third summer on Efferous. It would be autumn again soon and the surrounding hills would unleash a splendorous chorus of color.

  Normally Dana would spend her afternoons in the kitchen helping the servants prepare the evening meal for the residents of Halus Gis. However she had been spending less time there as her commitments to Khalous’ training took over her life. Her days had become filled with running and stretching, climbing, horse riding, and exhausting archery drills. More often than not she went to bed filthy, sweating, and bearing a good-sized bruise or two. Her body had grown leaner though, her legs had strengthened, and her fingers had toughened from plucking her bowstring.

  But a part of her missed her afternoons in the chapel, picking food from the garden, preparing meals, and tending to the children. It reminded her of simpler days in Aberdour when her mother would sit with her by the castle hearth and show her how to sew a patch into a leather coat, or stitch art into fabric. Lilyanna had taken great pride in grooming Dana for a life as a wife and mother. She had even given her singing and dancing lessons, and though Dana’s voice lacked any sort of musical potential, her dancing had made her graceful and surefooted, a trait she was glad for today.

  Still, she missed the dream of marrying one day and starting a family of her own. She feared the rest of her life would be spent preparing for a war she’d rather avoid.

  Through the colonnade she saw Nairnah Kholoch sitting on the grass sewing a pair of leggings. Dana walked over and sat down next to her.

  “Did Pick tear his pants again?” she asked.

  “No. Stoneman. Right down the bottom.” She giggled.

  “Kind of you to mend them for him,” Dana said.

  “I just like to help.”

  Nairnah had a reputation of always lingering where there was work to be done. She may not have been very independent minded, but she could follow directions to the letter and never had to be told twice. Nairnah had matured over the last two years, emerging from her shy, nervous shell into a blossoming young woman. Dana had even come to admire her, though the girl was several years younger than she.

  “You’re a good helper,” Dana said. “Others have said so.”

  The girl smiled in thanks, blue eyes squinting above raised cheeks.

  Dana watched Nairnah sew in silence for a few moments, enjoying the late afternoon sun as it dressed the garden in warm light.

  “Is Brayden all right?” Nairnah asked.

  Dana was well aware of the girl’s long-standing affections for her brother. Nairnah was almost of marrying age, by Edhen’s standards anyway, but Dana doubted marriage would come very soon for any of them.

  “Why wouldn’t he be all right?” Dana asked. She wondered if Nairnah had overhead all that had just transpired in the barn.

  “A couple days ago I saw his lip was split,” she said. “I don’t like those games they play.”

  Dana didn’t disagree. The games Khalous put them through often resulted in a mixed bag of cuts and scrapes. She often reminded herself that it was all for a greater good, that Khalous was preparing them to be warriors capable of astonishing feats.

  “My father used to say that soldiers were made the same as swords,” Dana said. “The best swords are heated, pounded, cooled, heated, folded and pounded again. It’s a long process that takes time and strength. That’s how the best soldiers are made, over time through strength and discipline.”

  “Do you remember your father very well?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was he like?”

  She thought for a moment, thinking of Kingsley’s charming tawny brown eyes. He had tough workman’s hands that were never anything to her but gentle.

  “He was strong,” Dana said. “I remember his hands, when he’d pick me up, there was something so secure about them. He had a strong mind, too. He knew what was right and wrong, and never wavered. His love for my mother was undying, even after…” She stopped herself, recalling the pain of her mother’s betrayal.

  “After what?” Nairnah asked.

  It occurred to Dana that such secrets didn’t matter anymore, and so she continued. “I was about to say, even after she conceived Broderick with another man.”

  Nairnah gasped.

  “My father kept it a secret to protect my mother from public shame. I never knew what love was until I saw the way he forgave her, embraced her, and welcomed her back into the family. He had a fierce love for her, that much I know.”

  Nairnah looked sad. “I don’t remember my father. Or my mother.”

  “Not at all?”

  She scrunched her face as though the admission had hurt her inside. “I remember what it was like to have a mother and father, but, even though I try, I can’t remember them specifically.” Dana watched a single tear slide down her cheek. “I don’t know why.”

  “What were their names?” Dana asked.

  “Edward and Nora.”

  “What did your father do?”

  “He was a carpenter. He built wagons and sold them all throughout the kingdom.”

  “And your mother?”

  “She was a seamstress. Her legs didn’t always work, so I would help her. I’d fetch fabric from the attic, or buy new cloth from the market.” Nairnah smiled as she spoke, her eyes lost in fond recollection. “My mother used to say that she could hold her needles and her fabric, hold up a new shirt or a vest, but she could never hold her children. She liked it when I worked with her, I think. It gave us something to do together.”

  The dinner bell rang.

  “I think you remember your parents quite well actually,” Dana said.

  Nairnah’s eyes blinked as though realizing the memory she had just relived. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

  The two girls left the grassy garden to join the others in the dining room.

  Dana let Nairnah go on ahead when she noticed Khalous and Ariella standing in a corner of the cloister talking with Prior Gravis. Rather, it looked like Gravis was doing most of the talking. Judging by the look on Khalous’ face his words were not being well received.

  Dana stepped back behind one of the pillars of the colonnade to listen.

  “I’ve found a bl
acksmith in Pelnon looking for an apprentice,” Gravis said, “and I know of several carpenters and scholars in Arys looking for boys to mentor. Some of our older orphan boys will be taken away to—”

  “This world does not need carpenters and scholars,” Khalous said. “It needs warriors.” He faced Gravis squarely, his broad shoulders and chest draped in a confident navy shirt with a high collar, covered over in patches of leather armor, well worn and scarred.

  “Of course, but we are not talking about soldiers. We’re talking about children. Warfare is the work of men, not—”

  “Tell me, Gravis, how old were you when you began your studies here?”

  Gravis interlocked his hands under the long maroon sleeves of his belted robe. After taking a brief moment to think, he said, “I was a young boy.”

  Khalous folded his arms. “The mind of a child is a fascinating thing. It absorbs so much more than the mind of a grown man. Children who begin learning at a young age quickly become masters of their craft.” He stepped toward Gravis, letting his powerful chest and shoulders crowd the prior just a bit. “I’m training these children not just to make them soldiers, but to make them the best soldiers the world has ever seen. A fact you will undoubtedly be grateful for if the high king of Edhen ever decides to invade this land you call home.”

  Gravis drew a deep, slow breath. He straightened his back and clenched his jaw as though struggling to hold back a flurry of protests. It was no secret that he didn’t like the violence of Khalous’ training on the monastery grounds. He tolerated it only out of respect for the abbot who was far more understanding.

  Gravis walked away.

  Khalous leaned back against the stone wall of the dining hall. He looked pale and forlorn.

  Ariella stepped up to him. Though she was well beyond middle age, she was still plenty lovely. Her hair had grown long again after enduring the shame of having it cut by the abbot when she left the sisterhood. It was now braided down her back, brown and white, lovely against the green of her simple dress.

  “Don’t lose heart,” Ariella said. “Just because some don’t understand what you’re doing, doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

  Her hand went to Khalous’ cheek. Dana wondered what the abbot would say if he saw them so close together. The abbey had strict rules about the physical contact allowed between unmarried men and women.

  “I know, but they’re not ready,” Khalous said. “Complacency has settled upon them. They’re becoming too comfortable here. Too content.”

  “It is not your responsibility to save Edhen. You have given your life to the Falls, to your kingdom. Perhaps it’s time to rest.”

  “I made a promise, Ariella. I promised Lord Kingsley that I…” Khalous’ voice trailed off.

  Kingsley.

  Dana tensed, taking a renewed interest in the conversation. All this time she had believed that they were on Efferous to hide, to train in secret with Khalous to one day strike back at the Black King. Now she wondered if there wasn’t another reason they were here, something to do with her father perhaps. The thought made her pulse quicken.

  “Promised what?” Ariella asked.

  Khalous paced back and fourth.

  “We need to finish this,” he said. “I must fulfill Lord Kingsley’s wish.”

  “What wish?”

  Khalous stared at the floor, not answering.

  “Very well,” Ariella said with a stiff upper lip. “Do what you must to honor your king, just be sure you aren’t holding onto these children for your own purposes.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Ariella cupped his cheeks in both her hands. “I love you,” she said, her manner softening. “I know you are a man of honor, loyal to the traditions and family of Aberdour, but your purpose is with me now, and to our family, should the Allgod bless us with one. You don’t need any more purpose than that.”

  Khalous fell silent, and Dana wondered if she saw a tear trickle down into his beard. He kissed Ariella on the cheek.

  She smiled. “Where will you be taking them?”

  “To meet a friend.”

  Khalous walked off into the dining room with Ariella in tow.

  A nervous chill arose in Dana’s chest as she pondered the idea of leaving Halus Gis. The monastery had just begun to feel like home.

  Dana waited until after dinner to share what she had overheard with Brayden.

  She went to find him in the barn where he often was in the evening, tending to the horses, putting away tack and other tools. She was surprised when she didn’t find him there.

  Voices outside behind the barn caught her attention. She followed the sounds around back until she saw Clint straddling the top of the monastery’s northern wall. He was staring down at Broderick and Brayden who were engaged in a quiet, but furious debate.

  Clint rolled his eyes. “Great. Now she’s here.”

  Broderick sighed with annoyance and turned his back on Brayden. He took hold of a rope hanging over the wall and climbed to the top of the fifteen-foot-tall barrier.

  “Broderick!” Dana said. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Shh!” he said. He stood atop the wall and walked out of sight. A moment later she heard the weight of his body drop down onto the grass on the other side.

  “You should come with us, Miss Dana,” Clint said. He winked at her. “Might have fun.” He disappeared over the wall.

  “Apparently they’ve done this before,” Brayden said, throwing up his hands.

  “Done what? Where are they going?”

  “There’s a village about four leagues west. They go there at night sometimes, and come back before dawn.”

  “How long have you known about this? Why didn’t you tell Khalous?” She hated how accusatory her voice sounded, but she couldn’t deny her anger. “Can you imagine what Prior Gravis would do if he found out the boys were sneaking outside the monastery?”

  “I’ve noticed them coming into the barn late at night before, but I didn’t know why until just now.”

  “Do they have any idea how dangerous that is?” she said. “Black vipers—”

  “Haven’t been seen for a long time,” Brayden said.

  “But Bendrosi and Gravis say there are still wanted posters for refugees from Edhen all over Efferous.” She pointed to the wall. “If they’re caught…” She stopped herself with a huff and paced away from Brayden, trying to calm down. “Idiots,” she muttered.

  “I won’t argue with that,” Brayden said. “Should I tell Khalous?”

  Dana shook her head. “It won’t matter much longer anyway.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  She spent the next few moments relaying to him the things she’d overheard Khalous telling Ariella. Brayden listened with growing fascination, and when she got to the part about Lord Kingsley his eyes widened.

  “A promise to our father?” he repeated. “What could that mean? Do you think that’s why he brought us here?”

  Dana just stood there, looking at him, her mind filled with all the same questions.

  “Did he say when we might leave?” Brayden asked.

  “No.” Dana turned and looked back at the rope hanging over the wall. “But, for their sake, I hope it’s sooner rather than later.”

  BRAYDEN

  From atop the ladder Brayden was able to look beyond the walls of the monastery to the colorful autumn hills beyond. In the last few weeks, the forest’s numerous shades of green had given way to fiery tones of red, orange, and yellow. The colors ignited like a spark to parchment in the late afternoon sun.

  Brayden remembered the mountains of Aberdour and how beautiful they looked come fall, their rocky slopes dappled with patches of vibrant trees. He missed his old life, but was glad for the similarities he found on Efferous that reminded him of home.

  He turned his attention on the apple branches hanging above him. The tree was one of many in several long rows of fruit trees occupying a large swath of property east of Halus
Gis. He tugged off a few more apples and dropped them into a wheeled cart next to the ladder beneath him.

  Several trees down the row he watched Dana climb up onto a ladder. The way her navy dress swished at her ankles coupled with her posture as she reached up to grab an apple reminded him of his mother.

  Dana saw him staring and smiled. “Are you all right?”

  “You remind me more and more of her,” he said.

  Her smile faded and for a moment Brayden wondered if perhaps he shouldn’t have brought it up. After a pause, a hint of cheer returned to her face. “Broderick has her eyes. Did you ever notice?”

  He had.

  Brayden’s ladder jerked suddenly. He dropped an apple and grabbed onto the top step to keep from falling.

  “Oops,” shouted Clint as he walked past. “I didn’t see you there.”

  “Piss off,” Brayden said.

  Brayden watched his cousin stroll up to Dana’s ladder with his gaze fixed shamelessly in the direction of her bottom. When she reached up to pluck an apple, Clint shoved his hand up between her legs and gave her right cheek a firm squeeze. Dana squealed, dropping the apples.

  Brayden’s insides flashed hot with anger.

  “Hey!” Preston shouted as he walked by with an empty wheeled cart. He slammed the cart down and stormed up to Clint. “What in all the hells was that?”

  Clint shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Dana hopped down from the ladder. Her face was as red as the orchard’s apples. She turned to Clint and slapped him. “Don’t ever touch me like that again, dog!”

  Clint, not even seeming stunned by her blow, threw up his hands in surrender. “Relax, Dana. I was just playing around.”

  She spun about and marched away.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Preston asked.

  Clint jabbed him on the shoulder. “Oh, come off it, Mr. Fancy. You’re telling me you wouldn’t—” he made a crude thrusting gesture with his pelvis, “—her if you had the chance.”