DreamReaper_Blood of Kaos Series Book II

by Nesa Miller

  She laughed, blushing. “Thank you, Dalos. Nice to meet you, too.”

  Rana brought order to the group with a clap of his hands. “A little decorum, if you please. Stop crowding the lady. We are not barbarians.”

  “Except for Ardana and Bis,” Dalos said, making the others laugh. Etain smiled, fairly certain the comment was said in jest, but she had no idea who he meant.

  Taurnil whispered into her ear, “Ardana and Bis are wild elves or grugach, tribal and barbarian.” He nodded his head toward a corner of the room.

  Dressed in simple animal skins and sporting tribal tattoos on their dark brown skin, a young man and a young woman, both with long, black matted locks, scowled at the group. “Ha,” Bis growled, showing a set of lethal incisors. “Maybe our Lady Etain can teach us a new joke.”

  “Dina!” Rana roared. All attention snapped to the Megiltura, including Etain’s. “This is our Lady Etain, High Lady of Kaos, Princess of the Realm, and Queen of Krymeria. You will show her the utmost respect as required by her station. However, when the Lady Etain is within these walls, she shall be a Black Blade, no more and no less. The moment we step outside this domain, you will remember to conduct yourselves appropriately. You are dismissed.”

  The elves of Nunnehi sat together as a family every night to share the evening meal with no consideration of race, occupation or rank, gathering around large circular tables. Aside from the Royal family, who were held in the highest esteem, the residents of Nunnehi were equals. Only the queen, her Ambassadors, and honored guests sat at the high table, which stretched from one side of the hall to the other. In the back of the great dining hall was another table, not as long as the high table, with benches instead of chairs, which was reserved for the novices of the Black Blades.

  Etain waved to Spirit and Swee, who sat toward the end of the high table. The women motioned her to join them, but she answered with a shake of her head and pointed toward the novice Blades. Alatariel, having also seen her, called her over. Not wanting to offend the queen, Etain detoured to the high table and bowed.

  “Greetings, Queen Alatariel. May the light bless you, and darkness flee before your presence.”

  “Greetings, Lady Etain. May the light bless you, and darkness flee before the might of your blade. Would you honor us with your presence for this evening's meal?”

  “Thank you for the honor, milady. However, may I be so bold as to request I be excused from the high table tonight? I’ve only just met the students of the Black Blades and would like to get to know them better.”

  “Etain, you will have plenty of time to become familiar with them.”

  She lowered her voice. “That may be, Alatariel, but I already have a great gap to bridge, between being the High Lady and being one of them. I would like to start building that bridge as soon as possible to put them at ease.”

  The queen held her gaze for a moment and smiled. “As you wish, Lady Etain. They are all yours.”

  Etain bowed her head, stepped back, and went to join her fellow students. At the table, she searched up and down its length for an empty seat, running a hand through her hair, wondering if she had made a mistake. Maybe the gap from Black Blade to High Lady was too wide. Feeling she had miscalculated, she walked past the table, thinking she would return to the training hall.

  I’m not that hungry anyway.

  A hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist, nearly pulling her off her feet. “Hey,” the deep voice said. “We too good for you?”

  Taken by surprise, her eyes flashed violet and her hand twitched, ready to go for her dagger. Golden eyes smiled up at her. For a split second, her heart stopped. They reminded her of another set of gold eyes.

  “I-I didn't see an open seat, so I thought I'd just-”

  “Nonsense.” He held onto her wrist as he pushed those next to him down the bench to make room. “You’ll sit here with me. We can't have you missing any meals.”

  After a quick glance toward the main table, she squeezed in next to Taurnil and gave a small smile to Dalos sitting on her other side.

  Dalos beamed. “Welcome to our humble corner of the hall.”

  “Made humbler by the likes of you,” a silver-haired elf quipped from the end of the table. Etain shot a sharp look at the young male, unsure if he referred to her or Dalos.

  Another spoke before either of them could respond. “Look at you, little wood elf, rubbing elbows with the elite. Next thing, you’ll be expecting us to bow and call you ‘My Lord’.”

  Dalos continued to grin. “Well, you know, I’m not one to brag…,” he said, accompanied by several guffaws, “but my clan does come from the mightiest tree in the forest. ‘My Lord’ would not be out of the question.”

  “‘My Lord Hard Head,’” jibed a dark female elf, lifting a mug. Everyone at the table laughed and joined in the mock toast.

  Caught up in the humor, Etain lifted hers. Without a second thought, she added her own sentiment. “Better a hard head than a hard ass.”

  The laughter immediately subsided into an uneasy silence. The Blade novices lowered their mugs and looked from one to another, their faces rather grim. Etain kept her mug in the air as her gaze went from face to face. It was a strong-willed fight to keep from rolling her eyes and shoving her mug down one of their throats. Bloody hell. Her glass wavered. As her hopes began to dwindle, the Blades broke out into concerted laughter, thumped their mugs on the table, and drank to her health.

  “A worthy opponent out of the arena, as well as in,” Taurnil said, grinning.

  “By the stars!. Royalty with a sense of humor! You are full of surprises, Lady E,” said Bis with a brown-toothed smile.

  “It comes in handy in my line of work.” Etain laughed, feeling more relaxed, happy to know she had made the right choice.

  Later in the evening, families began to disperse, heading to their chambers to finish evening chores and prepare for bed. Eventually, the students, still lively and showing no signs of slowing down, were the only ones left in the dining hall. They quieted once Rana appeared, standing over them at the table.

  “Kapparnir (Valiant ones), tomorrow will prove to be a new day in more ways than one. As we have a new student among us, and Nessa was promoted into the senior ranks, we must rearrange our pairings.”

  “But, Megiltura…,” protested Valin. Along with silver eyes, Etain noted the dual streaks of silver in his otherwise dark hair. “Since Nessa was my partner, I thought any new student would be mine.”

  “Valin, I must pair partners who will challenge one another. You are not yet experienced enough to give the Lady Etain a worthy workout,” he said with an unexpected gentleness. Rana looked at the others. “Lyli, you will pair up with Valin. Dalos will move over to Narien. Taurnil, you will pair up with Etain.”

  Dalos shrugged and offered congratulations to his best friend. “I guess it's only right that you train with the Lady, my friend. Let me know if she gets to be too much for you.” He winked and laughed until he caught Etain's serious eye. Blushing bright red, he coughed and ducked his head.

  “Dalos, you'd be a worthy adversary, I'm sure,” she said, laughing and patting him on the back.

  Her words made him smile. “That I would, milady. That I would.”

  “Lady Etain.” Rana drew her attention back to him. “Novices train with a black blade. Please stop by the training armory in the morning and choose one to your liking.”

  “Thank you, Megiltura, but I have a sword.”

  His lips thinned, looking down his nose. “Students of the Black Blades train with a black blade. You will choose an appropriate blade and be ready to train at first light.” With a sharp turn, he left the dining hall.

  “We’ll see about that,” she murmured under her breath.

  Taurnil whispered out of the side of his mouth, “Be careful, E. He can be a nasty opponent.”

  “As can I, Master Taurnil.” Placing her hands on the table, she pushed up and stepped back over the bench. “I've had a rathe
r big day, my pretties. I think I shall retire now. Heaven knows I'll need the rest to keep up with the likes of y’all.”

  Taurnil stood, as well. “I think I will, too, milady. May I escort you to your room?”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I know my way around,” she said, turning away from the table.

  “Think nothing of it.” He jumped in front of her, offering his arm. “I would be remiss if I should allow such a lovely lady to walk alone through these cold halls.”

  “Beware, Lady Etain,” warned Lenwe, a high elf male with pale skin, long black hair, and piercing green eyes. “Taurnil is a diehard ladies’ man. His charms are legendary.”

  She linked arms with her proffered escort. “Not nearly as legendary as my husband’s.”

  Taurnil’s eyes sparkled with a mischievous gleam. “I'm still young, milady. Give me time.”

  The others laughed, but a shiver ran through her as she looked into the golden eyes. Warning signals sparked in her blood, but she walked with him anyway. They bid everyone good night with promises of an exciting first day of training.

  “How long are you with us, milady?” Taurnil asked as they strolled through the hallways.

  “I don't really know. The Bok currently march on the home of a close friend, but Dar wouldn't let me stay to fight. I suppose I’m here until things settle down.”

  “Were you my wife, I would not want you endangered, either. He's been through a lot in his life. I think he's made a wise decision.”

  “Oh, do you?” She stopped, turning to face him. “What do you know of my husband?”

  “I've heard all the stories. He is truly legendary.” She could hear the respect for Dar in his voice. “I hope to meet him one day.”

  “Aye, he truly is wonderful,” she whispered. “Perhaps I can arrange a meeting.” Stopping at her door, Taurnil bowed over her hand, placing a kiss atop her knuckles.

  “I would like that.” He smiled. “Sleep well. May your dreams be as sweet as thee.”

  “Thank you, Taurnil,” she said, taking her hand from his. “I look forward to training with the Black Blades. I’m sure I have a lot to learn. Good night.”

  “Good night, milady. I'm sure it will be I who learns a lesson or two.”

  Etain woke early the next morning, dressed, and detoured through the kitchen to grab a bite to eat. Just a little something to settle her stomach. Chewing on a small roll, she sauntered through the halls on her way to the training room. Remembering her introduction to the huge black doors yesterday, she tapped lightly and they opened without a sound. Huh, imagine that. Another touch and the doors closed.

  She strolled about the large room, exploring this kingdom within a kingdom. The smells of metal, leather, and sweat came together in an aroma she found unexpectedly pleasant. Shields and dull-edged black blades lay in paired groupings about the hall in preparation for the lessons of the day. One wall, adorned with long and short bows, accompanied by leather quivers filled with arrows, led her to three medium-sized well-used targets at the far end of the hall. There were a couple tables and a few chairs, but it was mainly open, plenty of room to wield a blade…or ten.

  She chuckled, ending up with a small bit of bread down the wrong pipe. She coughed and sputtered, her face turning red until the bread finally dislodged. Leaning against one of the heavy tables, she took in a full breath. Having lost its appeal, she left the bread behind as she continued her explorations.

  Morning sunlight streamed through the skylights, filling the room with its glory. The white floor, in keeping with the rest of the palace, was of a material she did not recognize. She crouched down and ran her fingers over the rough surface. “Good grip.” Toward the center of the hall was a blue square about the size of a boxing ring, minus the ropes. The floor in this area was soft and spongy. “Hand-to-hand perhaps?”

  Murals along the far wall drew her deeper into the hall. Taking a closer look, they appeared to be depictions of various battles in elven history. Many included a man who bore a strong resemblance to Dar. She smiled, touching the image of the black-winged angel.

  Farther down, the murals took on a darker tone…both in color and subject. These depicted dragons in different stages of evolution. A battle with winged serpents blended into another where the heads of dragons sat atop human bodies, wings folded onto their backs. The final mural was of two men, standing face to face. The older man wore the markings of a dragon with scaled skin, elongated snout, amber snake-like eyes, and dressed in a royal robe. The other was rather handsome, despite his skin being dragon-like. Blue eyes were set into a face with a noble nose and full lips framed by brown hair that ended at his shoulders.

  How imaginative.

  Seeing something shiny glinting out of the corner of her eye, she left the paintings behind. At the end of the gallery was a small entrance into another space. Stepping inside, the walls displayed an array of weaponry. She bypassed the spears, axes, and maces without a second look. The black-bladed swords and daggers were what called her name.

  A beautiful katana sang the loudest. The hilt, made of black ivory, was warm to the touch and accented by a silver guard with a black blade. Blade in hand, she went into the large hall, working through a few paces. Although the feel was smooth and balanced, it was nothing like her Nim. She returned to the armory and replaced the katana in its hold. There were many versions of rapiers, colichemardes, long swords, scimitars, and even a demon shamshir. She handled a few, but none fit in her hand as perfectly as her own sword.

  As she meandered through the armory, voices from the outer room floated in. Time for class. Nearing the doorway, she heard Dar’s name mentioned in reference to the Blade Masters Gathering. Not wanting to stifle their conversation, she hung back in the doorway just enough to see who was saying what.

  “He actually asked permission to use my sword. I couldn’t believe it.” A tall, silver-haired elf paced around the small group.

  “Mine, too,” another joined in. This one, shorter than the first, had short dark hair and small features. “The man used two swords at the same time. I thought he’d win for sure.”

  “Well, maybe if Zysha hadn’t been catcalling and making eyes at him, he probably would’ve won. She’s always trying to catch herself a Blade,” said a female elf with cropped auburn hair.

  “Doesn’t she know he's already married?” Valin asked, flipping a dagger into the air.

  “He carried her scarf into the ring,” argued a squat, brown-skinned creature, unrecognizable as an elf except for his ears. “Perhaps she had good reason to make eyes at him.”

  “Why on earth would he want her?” the silver-haired one asked. “Look who he’s married to. That man must live a charmed life.”

  “Charmed indeed,” Etain muttered and stepped into the training hall. Several sets of wide eyes watched her approach. “Where would I find this Zysha?”

  “Lady Etain,” Valin said. “We didn’t know you were here.”

  “Where is she?”

  Accustomed to obeying orders, Dalos answered, “Opening her father’s shop. It’s off the square.” Every student glared at Dalos, who answered with a sheepish shrug. Etain was out the black doors before anyone had the chance to stop her. He rolled his eyes. “Yee, we’re in for it now. You think maybe someone should go after her?”

  “I love a good fight,” Valin said, tossing his dagger up, “but I don’t know as I’d want to be around for that one.” He watched its descent, stabbing into the table in front of Dalos.

  Taurnil walked into the hall. “Be around for what?” he asked, leaning against the table containing the dagger. He eyed the sheepish expressions. “What?”

  “Er, Taurnil,” Dalos started, “did you pass Lady Etain as you came in?”

  Taurnil pushed off the table. “What happened?”

  “We didn’t know she was in there,” Lenwe blurted out. “We were talking about the Blade Masters and Zysha-”

  “More like gossiping, I suspect.” He was already
retracing his steps to the door. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Think we should go help?” Valin asked.

  “It would be fun to watch.” They all looked at each other, smiled, and headed for the door.

  At that moment, Rana came in, calling class to order. “Look alert, Kapparnir. Pair off with your partners and let us begin.”

  Taurnil moved down the hallway as quickly as he could without causing a stir. He broke free at the outside courtyard and hurried to the main square. A large water fountain decorated with tiny forest faeries and water nymphs at play marked the center of town. Taurnil circled the fountain, looking down each subsequent row of shops in search of the silver-haired Amazon. Nothing was out of place. He circled around one more time to the road leading to the shop of Zysha’s father. Zysha was there, busy at work. She did not appear to be in any distress, other than that caused by the help.

  Perplexed, he tried another tactic. Where would I go? With a shrug, he circled the fountain with the intention of cutting through the small park just beyond the square. When he stepped on the curb, he noticed a movement to his left. There, underneath a large misshapen oak tree, he saw her leaning against the trunk, cleaning her nails with the tip of her dirk, occasionally glancing in Zysha’s general direction.

  Casual in his approach, he joined her against the tree. “Bore da, Lady Etain.” His gaze followed her glance down the road.

  “Bore da.”

  “How are you this fine morning, milady?”

  “I am quite well. Thank you for asking. And how might you be, milord?”

  “I am quite well, much like yourself.” His eyes came back to the beautiful face. “However, I must admit, I am somewhat curious.”

  She glanced down the lane once more. “Pray tell, what makes you so curious?”

  “Are you here to bask in the beauty of this fine morning…” He placed a finger on the dagger to get her attention, “or stalk your prey?”