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

Page 39

by CW Thomas


  “Easy boy,” she said as she climbed the stepladder to the horse’s back.

  Broderick was shoveling out one of the stalls in the barn when he noticed Dana mounting Meikia. “What are you riding him for?” he asked.

  “Because I want to,” she said.

  “Your legs barely fit around him. Bareback won’t be very comfort—”

  Dana charged through the barn doors, down the dusty road, and over the bridge leading onto the southeast hills.

  Riding Mekia was like riding thunder. She felt like a mere speck upon his back. She let her anger at Gravis and her fear of the unknown strip away her inhibitions, which pushed her to ride harder and journey further from the monastery than she ever had before. Mekia never seemed to tire. In fact, when Dana finally pulled the horse to a stop in the distant fields, he seemed excited and energized and ready for more.

  She wheeled him around and rode him just as hard back toward the monastery, his hooves echoing the furious pulsing of her heart as they pounded like drums across the land.

  On the southeast hills overlooking Halus Gis, Dana slowed the horse to a walk so she could take in the view. The stone monastery, with its many roofs and chapel spire, cut a sharp silhouette across the darkening cobalt sky.

  She brought Mekia to a stop when she noticed Ariella crouching in the grass up ahead. The woman appeared as little more than a shadow as she bowed to her face, rose up and stretched her hands to the sky. Her face was darkened by smears of dirt and the sleeves of her mourning robes hung in shredded tatters off her shoulders.

  “Ariella?” Dana asked.

  The woman gasped and stood up straight, her hand going to her chest. “Dana? You frightened me, child.”

  “I’ve interrupt something important,” Dana said. “I’m terribly sorry. I’ll leave you in peace.”

  Ariella sighed and rubbed her head. “No, no. It’s all right. I was simply saying goodbye in a very old fashion.”

  All around her were clumps of tall grass and veiny field roots, spatters of dirt flung in all directions leaving a bare patch of dark soil upon which Ariella sat. She got to her feet, not bothering to brush off the filthy pleats of her skirt.

  “Ages ago,” Ariella explained, “Efferousian priests would say goodbye in this manner to bless the soil over the buried body of the deceased. Their tears were considered a gift to the earth to honor the dead.”

  Ariella bowed her head and remained still in silent prayer while Dana pondered the mystery surrounding the custom. She thought the sentiment was a sweet one, but odd nonetheless.

  “Kintiere grant us mercy in our grief,” Ariella prayed. “Welcome my brother in The After.”

  She turned to Dana, a strange look of serenity upon her teary face. “What are you doing out so late, child?”

  Dana slid off Mekia’s mountainous back and gave the horse a rub and a pat. “I needed to get away from Gravis.”

  “You are not the first I’ve heard say that.”

  “Does he have to be so… obnoxious?”

  “He means well.”

  Dana walked with Ariella through the tall grass of the field back to the monastery.

  “I’ve never heard it called that before,” Dana said. “The After.”

  “Efferousians call it morporium. It means ‘the life after,’ a general term, of course.”

  “Stelldoma?”

  “That’s where Kintiere, the Allgod lives, yes. In Stelldoma, which is part of The After. It’s known as the Otherworld on Edhen.”

  “In the common tongue, yes,” Dana said. “The priests have another name for it, but I don’t remember what it is.”

  “Neevah.”

  “Right.”

  They crossed the small wooden bridge leading into the southern gate of Halus Gis. Mekia’s hooves thumped like war drums on the thick wooden beams.

  “You don’t believe in the Allgod do you?” Ariella asked.

  Dana was surprised by the woman’s insightfulness. For the first time she wondered if perhaps her distaste for the religion of Halus Gis had not been as veiled as she’d hoped.

  “I don’t really know what I believe. I don’t think I’ve ever doubted his existence, but, like many on Edhen, I believe he has abandoned us. That’s why Edhen has become so evil. The Allgod has left. And I–I…” but she couldn’t finish her sentence.

  “You what?”

  Dana stopped and turned to face Ariella. “I hate him.”

  “What makes you think he’s abandoned you?” Ariella asked. Her tone was calm and non-confrontational, but the question still made Dana squirm. She had never verbalized her thoughts toward the Allgod before, and doing so made her feel like she was betraying everything she had ever been taught.

  “They say he left Edhen when the Immortal Crown was broken. He gave up on us, and just… just left.”

  “What is the Immortal Crown?” she asked.

  Dana looked at her in stunned silence. “You’ve never heard the story of the Crown?”

  “You forget, I am not a native of your land. I’ve lived there most of my life, but I wasn’t raised learning your histories.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Dana paused a moment to recollect her history lessons on Edhen’s first high kings. “Brynlee remembers this stuff better than I do, but I know the Immortal Crown was created by High King Vala Hull about five hundred years ago. He was the greatest high king Edhen ever had. Some said he was a wizard, the first and only wizard to ever become high king, but others say he was an emissary of the Allgod himself sent to bring light and peace to the people. Before he died, Vala Hull pulled from the earth a rare gem called a regenstern.”

  “A wizard’s gem. I’ve heard of those before.”

  “Valla Hull imbued the gem with prosperity and wisdom and placed it in the Crown. Any high king who wore the crown immediately prospered in everything he did. When the high king was blessed, the kingdom was blessed. There was wealth and prosperity and harmony.” She paused to clear her throat. “There was one condition though. As long as the high king ruled with generosity, selflessness, and love, the qualities within the regenstern were passed onto him and his people. But if he ruled selfishly, or was motivated by personal greed, anger, or revenge, the power of the Immortal Crown diminished.”

  “So how did it break?” Ariella asked as they passed by the lay servants’ dormitory.

  Dana shrugged. “From what I remember it started with High King Eachann Vardoth, who ruled three hundred years after Vala Hull. The city of Perth came under attack, and Eachann’s daughter was murdered. In his grief he revisited punishment on his enemies a hundred times. He became violent and sorrowful and bitter.”

  They meandered past the dorms. Dana became aware of the sleeping souls in the houses around them and lowered her voice before she continued.

  “They say the Immortal Crown broke, not in a literal way, but that it’s power diminished. And nothing was the same after that. Wars increased. Disease spread. Famines. Wickedness. It’s like the Allgod’s hand of blessing went away.”

  Ariella stopped in front of the barn and turned to face Dana. “I can not speak to the motivations of the Allgod, he has his reasons for all that he does and allows, but in all my personal experience with him I’ve learned one thing: he never moves, Dana. We may move, but he is always firm.”

  Fidgeting with Mekia’s reins, Dana looked at her feet. “I wish I could believe that.”

  Ariella smiled and gave her a hug. “You know what I admire most about you, child?”

  Dana found it hard to believe that there was anything about herself for anyone to admire, least of all a former nun. Curious, she asked, “What?”

  “You never stop thinking.”

  The barn door creaked and Dana looked with Ariella to see Khalous stepping out into the moonlight.

  “Ariella?” he asked, looking from the dirtied hem of her dress to the brown smears on her face. “Are you—”

  “I’m all right, my love,” she said.
/>
  Khalous cleared his throat and looked at Dana. “Where have you been?”

  She dropped her head. “I was out riding. Forgive me. I should’ve told—”

  “Put the horse away and then come with me.”

  His bleak tone made Dana nervous.

  She bid Ariella a goodnight and then, with flutters in her chest, returned Mekia to his stall.

  In the loft above she could hear the snores of her brothers and their comrades.

  She found Khalous outside in the communal garden, leaning against a fencepost, his bearded chin tipped skyward toward the stars.

  “You wanted to see me?” she said.

  “I’ve spoken with Gravis. We’re leaving in two days.”

  Her heart sank. She shut her eyes and grit her teeth. “That bastard.” Her words slipped out in a whisper. “Why can’t he see the value in what you’re teaching us? Didn’t you tell him? Didn’t you explain to him that if someone doesn’t stand up to the Black King—”

  “Keep your voice down,” Khalous said. His tone was all business, even downright scornful. “The decision to leave was mine, not the prior’s.”

  Dana closed her mouth, stunned.

  Khalous folded his arms across his thick chest and said, “You will not be coming with us.”

  His words hit her like a blow from Mekia’s hindquarters. “What?” she breathed.

  “I’m taking the boys to the city of Thalmia. It’s a long journey, but I have an old friend there who may be willing to give us asylum.”

  The nervous fluttering in Dana’s chest had grown into a pounding rage. She struggled to keep her attitude in check when she said, “Don’t leave me here.”

  “Dana—”

  “No. I mean it. Khalous, my brothers are all I have left. You can’t—”

  “Be quiet and listen to me,” he snapped.

  She saw that there would be no arguing with him. His mind was set, and she had no say in the matter. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. She felt like she was being abandoned all over again and it infuriated her.

  “My friend in Thalmia has ties to an elite brotherhood of warriors through whom I can continue your training.” He gestured to the monastery grounds around them. “I can’t do that here.” He stepped toward her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I will come back for you.”

  She sniffled. “Take me with you.”

  “When it’s safe.”

  She shook her head. “No. Don’t leave me here.”

  Khalous smiled and shook his head. “You’ve got your father’s pigheadedness, you know? All of you do.”

  “I don’t care if it’s dangerous. Give me a bow. I can help.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about, and you know it.”

  “No. I don’t. What?”

  “It’s different for a woman,” Khalous said. “I’m sorry, but it’s not like it is for Brayden and Broderick. If black vipers catch them they will kill them. If they catch you, you’ll be treated like a prize, a spoil of war, and you’ll be passed from tent to tent and tormented and abused and…” His eyes clamped shut, and Dana saw the glistening of a tear slid down his cheek into his beard. “I held you all in my hands when you were born.” He lifted his thick, cracked palm. “You used to fit right here, you and Lia, Brynlee and Scarlett. The daughters I never had.” He sniffled. “But regardless of what you mean to me, you mean even more to Edhen. Your brothers have the hearts of warriors. They will fight and die for Edhen. But you have a much greater purpose.”

  Dana’s eyes were a watery mess now. “What is that?” she managed to say.

  Khalous smiled. “You will lead it.” He put his arms around her.

  She resisted at first, but slowly her arms found their way around his waist. She had never thought of Khalous as a father figure until now, and it touched her heart that he considered her to be a daughter. She cried into his chest, hating him for his decision, but understanding it nonetheless.

  “But you’ll come back, right?” she asked. “You won’t forget about me here?”

  “No, my lady. I will come back for you. That much I swear.”

  BRAYDEN

  Dana set her hand over Brayden’s chest and taped her fingers three times. Tap… tap, tap.

  The familiar gesture was old, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. It broke his heart to feel it again.

  “Do you remember when she used to do that?”

  “Scarlett? Yeah.”

  “I miss her, Brayden. Lia and Brynlee, too, but Scarlett she…” Dana stumbled on her words. “She was so gentle and young and so undeserving of all of this.”

  Brayden hugged her.

  He felt her fingers tap his chest again—tap… tap, tap. Scarlett was barely three years old when she had started doing that. It took his family a long time to figure out what it meant.

  “I love you, too, sis,” Brayden said. “We should return in a few months. It will be winter soon, so keep warm.”

  “You better come back,” she said, her voice muffled against his cloak.

  “I will.”

  She pulled away and looked at him. “I’m serious. Thalmia is a dangerous place. We’ve already lost Bryn and Scarlett and Lia. I’m not losing you too.”

  He stroked her dark brown hair, which had been matted by the morning mist. “We’ll be all right.”

  Her arms enveloped him one more time.

  Khalous had not given the boys much warning. With a straightforward announcement he told them that their time at Halus Gis had come to an end. They all knew it wasn’t his fault though. With the death of Duktori Bendrosi, Prior Gravis was now in charge, and it was no secret that he had long wanted to send them away.

  Brayden was sad to leave. Halus Gis had become his home, and now it was the second home he had been forced to leave in three years.

  “Promise me something else,” Dana said. “If you all are actually successful in finding these Kriegellian folks, and if they will teach you their ways, learn it. Learn all of it. I want us to bring a thunderstorm down on the Black King when we go back.”

  “You can be downright wicked when you get riled. Did you know that?”

  “I mean it,” she stressed.

  “I know you do. It’s why I’m shaking right now.”

  She cracked a slight grin and rolled her eyes.

  “I’m serious,” Brayden said. “Look at my boots. They’re quaking.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Goodbye, sister.”

  Khalous emerged from the chapel, a grim personification of no-nonsense readiness. His silvery hair was pulled back into a beaded ponytail, his beard braided in a short spike just under his chin.

  Behind him came Ariella, her cream-colored sleeves hugging her aproned waist. Khalous gave her a tender hug before proceeding through the mud toward the waiting train of horses.

  Brayden was just about to follow when he saw Ty standing under the tall fir that shaded the chapel’s southeast corner. He was holding hands with a downcast Senona. Even in her sorrow the foreign girl looked beautiful, her sandy colored face framed by the blackest silky locks.

  Ty withdrew a milk thistle from his pocket and handed it to her. She took it and returned a kiss.

  Seeing the two of them together made Brayden’s heart ache for Nairnah. He looked around for her among the people of the monastery who had gathered to see them off, but couldn’t find her. It pained him to think that she was so upset over his leaving that she couldn’t come say goodbye.

  Reluctantly Brayden walked to a horse that was waiting for him alongside a covered supply wagon. It was an ugly gray and white speckled mare that he had never ridden before. Its ears twitched at him as he approached.

  “You all righ‘, young master?” asked Stoneman from atop the wagon seat.

  Brayden mounted his horse and gave the muscled warrior a curt nod.

  Had he been in the mood to be a bit more honest, however, he would have admitted that nothing felt right to him. He didn’t like being forced o
ut of Halus Gis by an ignorant old prior. He didn’t like leaving Dana, Nairnah, and some of his friends behind. He didn’t have a good feeling about their journey and he despised how nervous and fearful he felt in his stomach.

  He followed Khalous along the curving road through the monastery. Behind him trailed Nash and Broderick, followed by Stoneman in the wagon, and Clint, Preston, and Ty atop horses of their own.

  Brayden saw his own sullenness reflected in each and every one of their faces. None of them wanted to leave. The monastery had been their shelter for more than three years, a place where they had all learned to be men.

  At the western gate waited the priests and nuns of Halus Gis—teachers, mentors, and even friends. The nuns muttered prayers as the boys filed past while the priests tossed them blessings in the name of the Allgod.

  Gravis stood among them, stone-faced and stubborn.

  “Son of a whore,” Broderick muttered as they sauntered by.

  “I hope he gets the fire in him,” Nash said.

  Brayden set his jaw, determined not to cry.

  He hoped that leaving the monastery would get easier the further away they traveled, but it didn’t. As the company crested a distant hilltop, he twisted in his saddle to take one last look at Halus Gis. The slate walls enclosing the chapel and surrounding community were bathed in thin wisps of autumn fog, their dreariness seeming to mourn his departure.

  He thought again of Nairnah, her thin lips and generous smile that always seemed to lift more on her right cheek. She was thirteen now, and lovelier by the day.

  Brayden imagined saying goodbye to her one last time, the feel of her hands around his neck, her soft breasts pressing against him as he squeezed her around the waist. He decided in his mind that had he been given the chance to say goodbye he would’ve kissed her. He wondered if she would’ve kissed him back.

  “Do you think we’ll ever see them again?” Broderick asked.

  Ty smiled. “I’m thinking yes.”

 

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