Noble of Blood Trilogy Box Set: All 3 books; Blood Price, Blood Ties, and Blood War in 1 set

by A L Wright

  “What have I told you about pushing yourself so hard?” Yosan chided.

  “You aren’t allowed to be the only stubborn one,” Hudreia croaked in return.

  “We’ll need to push on a bit farther before we stop to rest for the day.” Dartein crouched down beside the Warlocks, speaking too low for anyone else to hear.

  Hudreia nodded wearily. “Help me onto my horse. We’ll manage well enough.”

  “We can keep the pace slow now that we’ve dealt with the goblins.” Dartein signaled the rangers to get mounted.

  “No, we must move as quickly as we can. I’m afraid this was only a scouting party. No time now to explain. Let’s move, and we will speak later.”

  Dartein watched as the two Warlocks moved away, settling Hudreia on her steady but weary mount. A flash of red caught his eye, gleaming from the edge of a warlock’s black metal blade. A transference of energy, and from the way Hudreia’s horse began to wriggle and stamp as if it hadn’t just run for several days straight, it must have been the recipient of this gift.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Several hours later, both magical mounts were still stepping lightly as the mortal horses began to tire, which confirmed Dartein’s assumption. The sun was barely beginning to kiss the sky as they reached the rocky terrain that would, within another night’s ride, lead them to the abandoned village, and the Chamber they sought to unearth. Not the best of options for setting up camp, but the tall rocky outcroppings helped to shield sounds and voices.

  After the camp had been set and magical wards placed around the site, the party listened intently to Hudreia’s retelling of the attack on Noble’s Rest.

  “I don’t know all of what happened, as I came upon the scene much later after, the attack had begun to die off.” She shrugged as she finished her story, her voice soft with exhaustion.

  “So, the young smith has powers of her own? They must be fairly powerful indeed to have survived being smothered by my Father’s Chamber,” Dartein mused.

  “Well, off to bed with you, my dear. If an attack happens, it will be tonight. Our luck is in our enemies being nocturnal as we are. Odds are, they will attempt to surprise us at nightfall.” Yosan shooed Hudreia off to a tent set up next to one of the large outcroppings of rock, with no complaints from her. She must have been sorely tired.

  After everyone had settled in, Dartein walked the perimeter of the camp one more time. Placing his trust in the wards and the camouflaging of the tents, he finally settled down to sleep himself, trying to sleep as lightly as possible in case of any approach by goblins or other threats.

  Later that evening, when the sun met the skyline, no attack came. Dartein, Yosan, and Hudreia kept watch all around them while the rangers packed up and readied the horses for departure.

  “Damn those creatures.” Hudreia clenched her fists at her sides. “I’d rather have this fight over with and be free to move as we need on our return. But now, not only will we be weighed down by the Chamber, we’ll have to be ready to fight at any moment.”

  “We needed to be ready to fight anyway,” reminded Yosan.

  “Yes, but we could have used a major defeat on their part to slip away a little easier.” Huffing, she turned away to mount her horse.

  “Do you think they are waiting to attack? Waiting to see what our business is here?” Dartein asked.

  “Goblins honestly are not that smart, which is why they tend to use their sheer numbers to overwhelm their enemies. Their master, however, he is wickedly intelligent. I am sure he wants to know what we are doing. The attack is prone to happen on our way back when we are weighed down, as Hudreia said.” Yosan turned for his mount, leaving Dartein to follow.

  “Do not worry, young Prince,” Hudreia said to him as they turned north. “Yosan and I are rested and warned. We will not be so easily worn down this time.”

  The smile on her face, as she spurred her mount into a gallop, sent a shiver down Dartein’s spine.

  Chapter 8

  The colts had been more than ready to move to the Keep. Friesa thought that they barely resembled colts at all now. Even without the attention of Hudreia the last few days, they had continued to flourish and grow and had been going through the steps of saddle fitment and bridle training. It was impossible to tell they had been born only a few months earlier.

  They both now looked young but mature, ready to carry their riders wherever was needed. Which would soon be into battle. The intelligence in their eyes and their manners made them seem mature beyond years. They were not only strong and sure-footed, but they were also intelligent animals, smart enough to anticipate the needs of their masters.

  Friesa was sorely impressed and helped Nikka to care for them on the way back to the Keep.

  “I didn’t know you enjoyed horses so much,” Nikka remarked to her, the morning they made it back to the Keep.

  “Aye, well, we weren’t a rich family, but we did own several horses ‘n a coupl’a milk cows. My Da would always wind up complainin’ if’n I spent much time in the forge. So, I spent a lot of my days in our small stable, talkin’ to the animals.” Friesa smiled at the memory. “They didn’t mind it so much, always knew there’d be a carrot or two in it fer ‘em.”

  “Sounds as if you grew up lonely.”

  “Oh, no, not really. My brothers was brats, but we all got along fer the most part, ‘til they came of apprenticin’ age. I was younger than ‘em all, so they took pity on me and only picked on me until I learned to fight back. I was a bit of a rebel.” Friesa laughed and grabbed a twist of hay to brush one of the colts with. “Once they all moved out, I got worse. I ran off with one of our horses one day, entered the village races. I won, too. No one knew I was a girl, ‘til the end when my Da recognized it being one of our horses and drug me off, thinkin’ I had stolen it.”

  Nikka laughed. “Was he very mad?”

  “Aye, he was livid! Would ha’ beat me black and blue right there, except for it bein’ in public. He had cooled a bit by the time we got home. Gave me a few good thwacks, and him bein’ a smith for nigh on thirty years he had a strong swing! Then he sent me to the stables ta muck ‘em out. I preferred being there, so really, not much of a punishment.”

  Nikka stroked the nose of her colt, then kissed it between the ears. “So why did you end up being a smith then, instead of a farrier or breeder?”

  “Well, my Da ended-up needing help after my brothers moved on and there were no boys in the neighborhood old enough to take as an apprentice. He reluctantly allowed me ta watch as he forged, but only let me polish buckles ‘n such for some time.” Friesa half smiled as she recalled. “But I watched close, ‘n knew a good deal about how ta make tools before I ever fired up the forge maself. One night he came into the forge room to grab somethin’ he’d forgotten and caught me.”

  Friesa watched as her friend spread grain in the colts feeding troughs, lost in thought about that night. Her father had caught her, but she hadn’t become aware of it for some time. She had been in the middle of forging a long dagger, the one she carried now in fact, and was concentrating hard on her work. It was only after a while when she had plunged the blade into the cooling bucket to dissipate heat after a tricky maneuver of folding the metal and beating it back flat, did she look up and see him in the doorway. Drawing herself up, readying for a yelling match, Friesa had waiting for her father to berate her. He had merely shaken his head, took a deep breath, and walked away.

  Friesa was certain she had glimpsed pride on his face before he left.

  The next day her father put her to work making chainmail vests, looping ring after ring through other rings, pinching them closed and welding them together with drops of molten steel. It was painful and tedious work and could have been meant as punishment, but Friesa knew better. Her father had never trusted her brothers to make these vests, as they were both ham-handed. Great for pounding stubborn steel. But her fingers were strong, lithe, and worked the rings with finesse. A trait she had proven the night her
father happened upon her folding metal at his forge.

  He had never let her forge under his watch. But neither had he forbid her from doing it at night while her parents slept. The unspoken agreement between them had encouraged Friesa’s growth in skill and strength, and, to her father’s eternal lament, solidified her spinster status.

  “My Da was convinced no one would care ta murry a maid what acted as a man. And no one from our village did, evidently. Worked out fine fer me.” Friesa concluded her story and let the now ill-used straw fall from her hand. “Are ya gonna be usin’ yer blade on the colts tonight?”

  “No, they’ve had enough exercise to wear them out over the last few days. I’d rather they rest and recover naturally for a day. We can resume strengthening them tomorrow. Why do you ask?”

  “I’d appreciate the chance ta study that blade, is why. Been itching ta get ma fingers on it.”

  Nikka unsheathed the dark metal blade on her hip and handed it hilt first to Friesa. “As I said, I won’t need it until tomorrow night. Study it all you’d wish.”

  “I thank ya.” Friesa grabbed the hilt gingerly, letting the dagger show her the balance point before her grip tightened down on it. “It’s so light.”

  “Yes, I was surprised as well. I’m going to grab something to eat. You coming along?”

  “No, I’m goin’ ta the forge.”

  “All right, I’ll bring you something out in a bit.”

  Friesa nodded automatically, absorbed in the play of light from the blade, and didn’t hear when her friend walked away.

  Her mind raced as she walked to the forge. What type of alloy was this blade? And without being able to consult the original maker, what type of alloy could she make to duplicate the magical properties of this dagger? It had to be light, but not so light as to need to rely on brute strength to injure with it.

  When she entered the room, Friesa grabbed down the elements she thought she’d need. Iron for strength and a bit of weight, silver for shine, and… yes, there it was. The small ingot of platinum she’d stashed away for a special occasion. Figuring she would use it for wedding bands someday to make some good coin, Friesa hadn’t thought about the chunk of metal since arriving at the Keep and setting up shop. There was just enough to use in a special alloy for a pair of daggers.

  Platinum was always enjoyable to work with, but its rare status made it a special treat for a skilled smith, let alone any other metal worker. It was stable at high heat, which made her particular folding process smoother and much less tricky. The result would be beautiful, but with an edge that never dulled and a strength that never faded.

  Sweat poured down Friesa’s face as she melted down the metals and mixed them into the resulting alloy. At just the right temperature, she poured half of the liquid alloy into the dagger-shaped mold to let it cool just enough to still be shaped by her hammer.

  Tirelessly, Friesa hammered out the metal, reheated it again, and with a large set of iron tongs, folded the metal back upon itself in ribbon-shaped waves. Once finished with the folding, she repeated the hammering. Flatten and strengthen, heat and re-ribbon into folds. After a few hours, the blade was gleaming across its surface, and the now several dozen folds could only be seen in the resulting reflection. The alloy had turned the blade into a light color, paler than silver, the platinum causing the ripples to catch and reflect the light much the same as a mirror.

  Platinum in itself is highly conductive and only mildly resistant. After letting the blade cool in the water bucket for a bit, she placed it back on the large anvil and touched a finger to it. She released a small current of her power across the metal and drew her finger back. The lightning arced and danced across the blade for a moment before fading away. An idea formed in Friesa’s mind, and even though she had almost finished with the forming of the blade, decided it wasn’t truly close to being done.

  Nikka came and went a couple of times over the course of several hours. Once to drop off some food, the second time to ensure she’d eaten. She had brought ale with her this last time, and Friesa sipped it as she eyed her handiwork.

  The ripples now shone even brighter than before, sparkling, sending dancing lights across the blade from the flames of the torches around the room. The last time she had lain lightning across it, sometime before Nikka dropped off food, the blade could be heard crackling with the electricity. Bolts raced across the surface, growing in intensity until, in fear that she’d blow a hole in the roof of the forge, Friesa placed her hand back on the tip of the blade to re-absorb the magic. To say it had been a shock to her system was a severe understatement, and she had been forced to head out into the night and slowly release the energy into the ground to dissipate it.

  The ale was now cooling her, quenching her over-heated body and bringing her mind back into focus. All that was left was to fashion a hilt for the blade.

  “You should give it a name,” remarked Tynen when he came out to convince her to come to bed.

  “What? What’n the name of the Reaches would I name it? Sparky?” Friesa barked a short laugh. “Nah, I think not. But I do believe a bit o’ quartz fer a pommel would be lovely.”

  Chapter 9

  Unable to patiently wait for her father’s arrival, Nikka paced between the small hearth and her bed. Victor had half-heartedly teased her about wearing a path in the floor of her room, but she could tell he was just as worried as she was. She knew that nothing terrible had happened; she would feel it if her father had been injured in any way. That didn’t make her worry any less.

  “Well I think we should find something to occupy our time, or I’ll go mad from this waiting.”

  Victor raised an eyebrow suggestively.

  “No, as much as I’d love to lay around in bed with you all night, there are things that need to be managed around here.” Nikka half smiled at him.

  “Right then, I’ll go and fetch my belongings from my room and drag them up here. Settle in, maybe?”

  Nikka’s heart raced, her chest tight from the overwhelming love she felt for this man. Sharing a residence or room was as close as being married for Nobles. She grinned at him. “That is a great idea.”

  Victor kissed her soundly on the forehead. “And what will you do while I am moving?”

  “I’ll go check in with Matten and Clyd, see the state of things around the Keep and tie up any loose ends before we may have to run out again.”

  “How’s Friesa’s new project going?”

  “She’s already finished her blade. It’s a wicked little thing. She’s made it able to hold and reflect her lightning. Now she is out there banging on a second one for me. Actually, now that you’ve reminded me, I do need to check in with her. She said she needed my magic to help her along towards the end.”

  “Then you better not miss out on that. I’ll meet you back in the hall when you are all finished.” Victor kissed her again, then turned and left.

  Nikka made her way out to the small settlement outside the keep. It wasn’t quite developed yet, the land parcels still marked out mostly in stone except for where the humans had concentrated on building actual fences to keep their animals in. The carpenters had been incredibly busy, recruiting the younger lads to help get homes and barns built.

  Now the main concentration was on the palisade walls that would eventually surround the entire settlement, keeping it butted up against the stone wall of the Keep itself. The palisade was about two-thirds of the way finished, and the mason measured out the distance on each side that would be needed to reinforce it with stone. Quarrying had already begun to the south of the Keep, near the dry riverbed, and an enormous pile of large rocks sat near where the palisade connected to the Keeps walls.

  This is where Nikka found both Matten and Clyd. Matten was finishing up for the day, dismissing his human charges off to their homes for a well-deserved night of rest. Clyd was taking stock of where the humans were working, so he could get his rangers to pick up where they left off.

  “Good evening, g
entlemen,” Nikka greeted them both as she approached.

  “G’day, M’lady,” Clyd bowed his head to her.

  “Princess,” Matten said as he bowed low. The large human held her in high esteem, which made her slightly uncomfortable since her ability to heal him had been discovered by accident.

  “How goes it out here?” she asked.

  Clyd scratched his head. “The rangers are gunna start on the stone bolstering fer the palisade tonight. The humans are gettin’ along well with the wood staking durin’ the day, so we are tryin’ to get this reinforced as quickly as possible.”

  “Have we decided where to house the Chamber when my father returns?”

  Both men nodded, looking strained. They all knew the attempt to bring back the Chamber was a risky one.

  “Aye, we do. The best place is the cellar in the storage house. Yer Grandfather said it’d be best with four walls. Fer the inscriptions, y’see.”

  Nikka did see, and she nodded to Clyd in thanks for the information. “Do we have any volunteers from the humans for who we can turn?”

  “Yes, Princess. We have a few, including myself. I’d be happy to be the first,” Matten said, surprising her.

  “Matten, you do realize that once done, there is no reversal? Your ability to father children will be gone. You will outlive your wife.”

  “Aye, yes. I do know all of that. I have several rugrats; I don’t need no more. My wife is healthy as a horse. Maybe she can join me later after the war is over.” Matten looped his thumbs through his belt, looking comfortable with his decision.

  “I just want to make sure everyone understands what they are giving up to help us.”

  “Princess. Your kind has helped us humans for hundreds of years. This war could be the end, or a new beginning. I intend to make sure it’s the latter of the two.”