Vitiosi Dei (Heritage of the Blood Book 2)

by Brent Lee Markee

  “I’ll just be glad to talk to people who understand your sarcasm. Trying to lead that idiot around all of your little verbal jabs was exhausting.”

  “I was trying to knock the oaf down a peg or two, but I don’t think the jackass caught on to one of my rather witty retorts. I almost slapped him in the face just to see if he understood that.” Za’kereth sighed. “It is so difficult to talk to the stupid, especially when they have a high opinion of themselves.”

  “Now you know how I feel,” Elandria said from her hidden position a few feet from the pair. They both froze for a half second before their natural instincts were overridden by their training, each throwing their hands up in a manner that would be threatening to anyone who knew anything about Shapers.

  “Elandria, it would be a shame to have that beautiful face marred by scorch marks,” Za’kereth said as he lowered his hands.

  “Oh, I’m sure Za’erath would fix me up well enough that I could get along in polite company.”

  “Not if I die of a heart attack,” Za’erath laughed.

  “Mcdowell is waiting for your report,” Elandria said, before letting loose several short trills that would alert the rest of the group that friendlies were incoming.

  “Welcome back, boys, how was the village?” Warren said with a smile.

  “Oh, charming,” Za’kereth declared. “We should really think about coming here on vacation someday. The natives are warm and friendly, and the architecture is simply to die for!”

  “That good, huh?” Trenton grunted.

  “Better,” Za’erath replied. “I’ve seen happier people on a chain gang.”

  “Report,” the Sergeant barked.

  “First off, this quaint little cluster of joy is called Verge. From what we can tell, the princess hasn’t come through this way yet. Not that it should be surprising if Cantel is right and the Doppelganger took her to Freeport first. I’d say we have a good Eightday or two before we should expect to see any activity if they head this direction,” Za’kereth said. “The town councilor we talked to was a right jolly prick and seemed to be the type of idiot that likes to hurt people to make himself feel better. Za’erath isn’t kidding when he says the people aren’t happy. It is like they have never even heard of the word hope.”

  “The reports I read before we left said much the same about the people on this side of the border. I don’t understand how the Dracair even manage to maintain whole communities of people with the kinds of laws they enact and the people they put in charge to enforce them,” Mcdowell grumbled.

  “People will convince themselves that things could be worse. I’ve seen people live in squalor when they were healthy enough to pull themselves out, just because they don’t realize that they have what it takes to do so,” Jameson said. “When you feel that hopeless, just getting through the day is a little victory.”

  “Alright,” Mcdowell said. “No use standing around lamenting the sentient condition. We need to have eyes on the road to the Northeast, and the road to the Southwest. I’ll have Warren find us a good spot for a command post. While you are at it, see if you can convince some of the local wildlife to do some scouting for us. I want to know the shoe size of every person that enters or leaves that village, and what they last ate. Za’kereth, let’s make our report to Windsbane so he can tell High Lieutenant Commander Theromvore."

  Chapter 14

  Cold and Lonely

  Year: 3045 AGD

  Month: Midwinter

  First Firstday

  Abandoned Mine

  That first night alone was the worst night that he could remember. There had always been sounds around him: people moving, snoring, coughing, and talking. The absolute quiet that had greeted him in the guard room was almost more than he could take. His time in the caved-in part of the mine with the two Goblins—that he realized he had still never learned the names of—had helped prepare him a little, but even then there had been noises if he listened closely. As he sat alone inside the guard’s room, he strained his hearing as hard as he could, but heard nothing beyond his own breathing.

  There was a pile of wood in one corner of the cave for the fire pit that sat in the middle of the space. He had no idea how to start a fire, however, and his few attempts at doing so had failed spectacularly, and he had to remove the slivers he had gained in the attempt. Luckily, he was used to sleeping in the cold. His best discovery of that first evening had been a well-worn old cloak under the pile of wood. It had helped divert his attention from being alone for the first part of the night as he meticulously removed small chunks of wood from the cloak's fibers.

  He had finally fallen into a blissfully dreamless sleep late in the night. When he had awoken, it was to a strange mewling sound coming from the direction of the cave entrance. The first thing he noticed as he rounded the corner was that the sun was out, and much of the snow that had been covering the trees had melted away. The snow on the ground was still up past his ankles, but he thought he might be able to see the ground in a few days if it continued to be this nice. The second thing he noticed was a small furry creature; if it hadn’t been making noise, he might have thought was just a pile of dirty snow.

  The boy inched forward. He was only a few arm lengths away from the ball of fur when the creature seemed to register his presence. It rolled around and tried to stand; that was when he noticed that one of its legs was lame. This didn’t prevent the little guy from growling heartily at him, however. The creature’s aggressive posture had afforded him a better look at the little beast. He realized that, while the thing was small and cute, an older version might be rather intimidating.

  As it was, however, the small ball of fluff was making it very difficult for him not to smile. The creature’s tail was short and furry, and its ears were round little nubs that were probably as big as the boy’s thumb. It had an elongated snout that ended in a small black nose. In fact, the only thing that wasn’t cute or cuddly about the little guy was his rather sharp looking teeth and the currently extended claws that protruded from his wide paws.

  “Hey little one,” he whispered. “Where did you come from?”

  At the sound of his voice, the creature stopped growling, and a small pink tongue popped out for a moment, before lifting his muzzle to get a good sniff of the air. The little guy seemed to decide that the boy wasn’t a threat as he flopped onto his butt and eyed him curiously. A moment later, the little guy seemed to remember that he was in pain and whimpered quietly. His muzzle swung around behind him and grabbed what at first glance looked like a large stick. Upon closer examination, however, small bits of flesh hung off one end, and the other side ended in a wicked looking point.

  “What do you have there?”

  In response, the little guy growled quietly and thrashed the tail around.

  “Is that what happened to your leg?”

  A loud crunch sounded as the exoskeleton of the tail cracked under the powerful jaws of the small ball of fur. It seemed that whatever had attacked the creature had lost its tail in the process.

  “Alright, so we know not to get our fingers anywhere near your mouth.”

  As if to agree, the little guy shook his head up and down vigorously before spitting the tail out into the snow. They stared at each other for a few moments before the little fluff ball seemed to decide that he wasn’t in danger at the moment, and started licking his wounded leg. Moving away from the creature, the boy used his eyes to follow the tracks that had been left in the snow, and they seemed to lead back south. He wondered how far the creature had come from where he had started, and how far away the tail had come from. When he turned back around, he noticed two small bright blue eyes staring at him curiously.

  “Well, we probably shouldn’t stay out here.” He made to move closer to the little guy, who immediately started growling. “Alright, well…” Moving towards the cave mouth he motioned towards the entrance. “… whenever you are ready, I’ll be in there.”

  He could feel the creature�
�s eyes on his back as he disappeared into the mouth of the cave. Realizing that there was very little that he could do to help the little guy if he wasn’t willing to be helped, the boy started rummaging around the meager supplies. It didn’t take long for him to sort through the paltry pile of goods. There was a small ball of string, half a knife blade, two of the grain bars that he had eaten every day for as long as he could remember, a water skin full of something pungent, a ratty old cloak, and a whole lot of firewood.

  None of his dreams had dealt with any kind of situation like this, and he had no idea what he was going to do if Pershanti didn’t come back for him. As he sat staring at his small pile of supplies, he remembered that there were chains and manacles down the tunnel. He didn’t know what he would use them for, but as the thought came to him he realized that there might also be a pickaxe left down there. Running down the tunnel, he was excited to see that he had been right and there were actually four pickaxes lying around near the pile of chains. He tried to pick up all of the pickaxes at once and realized that he was never going to get all of them to the front of the cave in one trip, so he decided to take them two at a time.

  It took him three trips to get the pickaxes and drag the chain into the guard’s quarters. When he came around the corner with a long line of chain spooled out behind him, he noticed that he was no longer alone in the room. A small furry shape was sniffing at the pile of supplies that he had set out, and he noticed that half of one of his grain bars was missing.

  “Hey!”

  The small shape ignored him and took another bite out of the bar.

  “You little bastard, that’s all the food we have!”

  Happy blue eyes greeted his statement as the last bit of the first bar disappeared into his toothy maw.

  “Well I hope that fills you up some,” he said, walking across the room. He was well within bite range as he picked up the other bar and hid it in the pocket of his cloak. “Because if Pershanti doesn’t show up in the next day or two we are going to be out of luck food wise.”

  A short growl accompanied his movements, but it seemed much more playful than it had been earlier.

  “Alright, try not to get into too much trouble, I’ll be right back.”

  Picking up the chain once again, he began to drag the hefty links towards the front of the cave. He began to lay the chain from one side of the cave to the other in a tight weave back and forth. As long as the chain was, he only managed to cover about five feet of the entire entrance in chain. He hoped that it would be a big enough surprise that the chain rustling would give them enough warning to stand and fight whatever came in. Of course, if they did notice the chain and simply hopped over it they might still make enough noise for him to hear them coming.

  Coming back into the room, he noticed the small white and brown furred creature playing with something in the corner of the room. Moving closer, he found that the thing was rolling around the ball of string one end of the ball was loose so every time he swatted at it, the ball became a little smaller. This seemed to confuse and sadden the little guy as each time the ball got smaller he would be slower to swat at it. When his last swat made the thing unravel entirely, the fuzzy creature looked back at him with a look that seemed to say it broke.

  Laughing, he moved towards the little guy, who for once didn’t growl as he reached down and grabbed the string. It took him a few tries to figure out how to wind the string up to make it into a ball shape once more, but once he figured it out, he tucked the loose end in so that it wouldn’t unravel as easily. When he set the ball down in front of the little ball of fur, the creature's eyes lit up and his tongue lolled out of his mouth for a second before he went back to work swiping at the ball. When he seemed to notice that the ball was no longer getting smaller, his swipes came a little faster.

  The little guy hit the ball too hard one time and when he went to snatch it with his other paw, he over extended and let out a whimper as his back end seemed not to want to cooperate. Lying on the ground, he stared at the ball rolling away in defeat. That was when the boy noticed that neither one of the pup's back legs were working now. Whatever it was that had stung him, it had left something nasty behind that was slowly working its way through the little ball of fluff.

  “Hey little guy, you don’t look like you are doing very well,” he said, moving towards his new cave-mate.

  Blue eyes stared back at him, cautious but no longer afraid. He put his hand a little way away from the thing's nose allowing it to get a good sniff.

  “I don’t know anything about wounds, but I should probably look at that leg of yours to make sure it isn’t about to fall off or something.” He placed his hand slowly down on top of the creature, petting it gently. It seemed to be ok with that, and as it closed its eyes its short tail twitched sporadically. Whatever it was that was slowly coursing through the creature's system was making the movements awkward. Slowly moving his hands back towards the rear end of the creature, he eventually made it to the wounded leg.

  As he reached for the creature’s leg, a small pair of bright blue eyes were suddenly inches from his face. He was sniffed several times accompanied by several loud, quick, grunts. Finally, the little guy seemed to decide that he wasn’t being threatened and laid down, allowing the inspection. Examining the legs, he noticed the wound because there was something sticking out of the back left leg that wasn’t on the right. A thin membrane of some sort was implanted into the back of the thing's leg—clearly something left behind from the stinger.

  Grabbing the knife blade, he wrapped the end of his cloak around one finger and pressed the membrane between his wrapped finger and the blade, pulling the end free. The tip of the stinger came out still dripping fluid. He dropped the tip into the fire pit, even though there was no fire—he felt it was the safest place for it at the moment. Next, he wiped off the knife blade before tearing off a thick section of the ratty old cloak, throwing that in the fire pit as well.

  “Well little buddy, that’s as good as I can do. Hopefully your body can get rid of that crap, or Pershanti knows what to do.”

  Serenity Valley

  Shawnrik was nervous. As nervous as he could ever remember being. He was pretty sure he had been less nervous waiting to ambush a patrol of Blood Orcs. His hands were sweating, and he had barely been able to follow along as Master Orsoe demonstrated different maneuvers that could be used from the forms they had been perfecting over the last three Eightdays. Master Orsoe had noticed his lack of concentration and had shot him several questioning glances, her Half-Orc visage giving her concern an almost feral aspect.

  Halfway through the class, she seemed to realize what it was that was on her young student's mind. One would have to be blind to not notice it after watching him for half of the afternoon, as his eyes kept darting towards a particular person. She was two rows ahead of him to the right, barely large enough to intimidate a Gnome, and yet here he was sweating more than he had since Ashur’s first month of training sessions.

  Olivia Little. She had already essentially told him that she was waiting for him to ask her to the Winter Dance. Even with the knowledge that she was more than likely to say yes, his nerves were frayed. What if she doesn’t, though? What if someone asked her this morning while you were trying to figure out the right words? What if she figured since you didn’t ask her yesterday she would ask someone this morning? Shawnrik knew that he was overthinking the whole thing, but he couldn’t stop the thoughts from pouring out. His heart was beating fast, its palpitations the only noise he could hear beyond his own breathing.

  That was why it took him a moment to realize that Master Orsoe had just asked him to come forward and help her demonstrate how the latest maneuver worked. Realizing that he had not been paying attention at all, he tried to remember what his body had been doing only moments before. By the time he made it to the front of the students he thought he had a pretty good idea about the way that the encounter would play out based on the movements his body had been making.
It only took him ending up on his back twice before he executed the move correctly and dropped Master Orsoe to the floor. He had no illusions about his success as no doubt the wiry Half-Orc had a dozen ways in which she could have turned the move back around in her favor, but because it was a demonstration, she let the move play out like it would against someone without her experience.

  “Nice work, Shawnrik,” she said aloud as he pinned her to the grass. In a much quieter voice she added. “Think of it like you are going into a fight. You are either going to overwhelm her immediately and everything will work out, or she’ll punch you in the gut and it’ll hurt for a while.”

  It took a moment for him to realize that she was talking to him about his nervousness. He simply froze, looking down at his surprisingly helpful Instructor.

  “Alright, get up,” Master Orsoe said in a louder voice. “We’ve got work to do.” She winked at him with the eye that wasn’t facing the students as he helped her to her feet. “Get back in line.”

  The rest of the class went by much smoother for him, and his heartbeat had normalized to something more akin to its usual tempo for this type of exercise. While the advice was barely different than some of the things he had been telling himself for the past day, its source had managed to surprise him enough to divert some of his thoughts away from what he was about to do. He realized at that moment that he owed his Instructor a debt of gratitude. It goes to show that you can never guess which person might give you that little boost you need at the perfect moment.

  When the class was dismissed for the day, he kept his eye on Olivia. Normally they would all gather together and walk towards the dining hall as a unit, but his mind kept telling him that she might disappear if he looked away too long. His fears were rendered obsolete as she and the rest of the girls began to converge on him. Shawnrik realized a moment later that Verrian was standing beside him.