3
“There has been another emergence.” Santaal Kader pushed the thick cloak from his head revealing an aging hairline. He glanced around the basilica and took note that all movement had stopped. A dozen cloaked and shaved monks quickly went back to their chores. Although they were all proficient battle-mages, none had the means or will to defy their spiritual leaders.
Santaal turned back to his brother, who looked up from the book he was reading. Tarak carefully laid the strip of leather he was fiddling with along the inner spine of the tome and closed the book. He placed it on the table next to him and sat for a moment in pondering silence.
Tarak Kader was an impressive man. Santaal could see their father in his face and features, far more than he could see them in himself. There was always a little sadness that overtook him whenever he laid eyes on his brother. He missed his father just as much as he knew Tarak did.
Ashur Kader was a much sought after mercenary on Partha and through the Western Isles. Besides being a powerful warrior and brilliant tactician, he also had limited skill with magic, a trait uncommon amongst most soldiers. For many years, Ashur was content to adventure, and he amassed a sizable fortune.
On one adventure, however, the unthinkable happened. Ashur Kader, solitary warrior and confirmed bachelor met a woman who stole his heart and they fell madly in love with each other. She became pregnant, so he took her with him, home to South Partha, where he bought her a villa, staffing it with a host of servants. He continued to do what he did best, which took him away from home for long periods of time but always cherishing the thought of returning. Three years later she became pregnant again but there was a complication. She died on the delivery table but their son was strong and he survived. Ashur was devastated at his loss, but he refused to shun the responsibility that was left to him. He had a strong belief in family so he sold the villa and took his two boys traveling with him, leaving them in the care of their nursemaid, whose service he had retained. They would travel with him around the world as he gathered information on new and different fighting techniques and military strategy. When a new opportunity presented itself, he would rent them a suite in whatever city they visited so they were comfortable while he was away.
When Santaal was ten, they visited the city of North Port on the isle of Droll, which was traditionally called the Dragon Isle. Ashur left the two boys and their nurse in a fine inn and left on a job. The quest was estimated to take a month so he pre-paid the innkeeper for three months of food and lodging. After the second month, the nursemaid began to worry. At the end of the third month, she took a smaller room as well as a job at the inn to pay for it. After eight months, she gave the boys a small bag that held four silver coins and kissed them each on the head. She was never heard from again. The innkeeper told the boys that they couldn’t stay and offered to take them to the local orphanage. Santaal and Tarak had heard stories of what happened in orphanages so they thought it would be better to try their luck on their own. Every day they would walk through the markets, stealing whatever they could for a daily meal. Then they would head down to the docks to look for their father. They would talk to sailors and merchants and while many knew their father, none could tell them of his whereabouts.
Santaal knew they couldn’t survive for long on their own so he decided they needed to join a local street gang who called themselves ‘The Trolls.’ It was a group of street urchins but they had a shelter and food. The brothers were known as proficient thieves so they were accepted.
There were times that Santaal was jealous of Tarak for being blessed with their father’s genetics. Once he was a teenager, Tarak had the look of a much older man, heavily muscled with a full beard. His size, strength, and intelligence made him a natural leader. Santaal recognized this and contrived a plan. The boys assumed control of the Trolls and under their new leadership, the gang prospered. They controlled the upper east side, an area that included the profitable docks. Through fear and intimidation, they carved out a substantial income. They thought they were kings of the world. The shipmasters and store owners paid them the kind of respect usually reserved for lords and ladies. That is until the Brotherhood came along.
The gang had gone to the docks one night to collect taxes from a newly arrived ship. Instead, what they found was a group of well-trained fighters, who were sneaking into the city from a merchant ship. The fighters were from the Brotherhood of the Order of the Sacred Blood. The battle was a fierce and bloody street fight. In the end, the Order prevailed. The gang was slaughtered although Tarak single handedly killed most of the Order while protecting his older brother.
The Sacred Blood warriors had them cornered in an alleyway. Tarak had a pair of long blades that he had taken from a dispatched enemy. A group of eight men was advancing toward them. Santaal was much smaller and did not possess the fighting prowess of his younger sibling so he hid behind a pile of stacked wooden shipping pallets. Santaal knew they were in a lot of trouble but he did not have the same courage as Tarak, who’d taken a defensive position in front. Tarak was about to charge the group, when out of the shadows came a priest, but unlike any Tarak had ever seen before. The priest was dressed in a traditional thick black robe lined with fine silk and he was surrounded by a thin, dark mist. It was as if shadows were sewn to the seams.
Suddenly, the world disappeared and the two brothers were in a world of smoke and shadows. They were dazed, disoriented, and scared. Once again, the world shifted and they were in a feasting hall with big roaring hearths. The room was richly decorated with tapestries and paintings. The furniture was all polished oak and leather.
The priest was standing by one of the great hearths. He turned to the boys and introduced himself. He called himself Magra and he told them they had nothing to fear. He asked them to sit at the table and enjoy the feast while he talked to them. Santaal was skeptical but Tarak dropped himself into the chair and filled a platter with thick slices of beef covered in gravy, a half wheel of goat cheese, and a loaf of warm bread. He grabbed two goblets and filled them from a pot of ale. He thrust one toward Santaal and bade him to sit. When Santaal had filled his own platter, Magra told them the story of Garron the Dragonslayer, who lived a thousand years ago, but whose teachings had lived on through the Order of the Sacred Blood. The boys ate and listened to a fantastic tale that changed their lives forever.
“Where?” Tarak’s deep voice brought Santaal back to the current moment. When his eyes refocussed he found Tarak furrowed gaze toward him.
“On an island, north of Droll. The isle of Seron.”
Tarak heaved himself from the chair and began to pace around the stone outcropping that stood at the head of the large chamber. Santaal knew to be patient and watched as the monks scrubbed and polished the sacred room that was their place of worship. He watched as two brothers carefully dusted the simulacrum of their savior, Garron the Dragonslayer, that stood thirty feet high, ever watchful.
“What other information do we have?”
“It seems that the dragon has bonded with a young princess. A former princess to be accurate. Apparently, there was a power struggle between two of the kingdoms and her mother, the queen of Prozia, lost her husband during a surprise attack. The attack was interrupted by her dead husband’s cousin, who then usurped the throne using the old laws. The girl had been sent away to avoid an arranged marriage, which is what started the whole conflict. The girl somehow met a dragon and found herself an army. They took up residence in a mountain stronghold called the Tower of Kings. It is carved into the side of a mountain, an excellent strategic position as it can only be approached from one side. The army, the Dragon’s Tail brigade, or the Daxrah as they were called in the old days and so it seems that they have taken that name again, are a well-trained group that historically have protected and fought for the dragonbloods. We don’t have any accurate count on their numbers but we do know that they are working at fortifying and expanding the tower. A village has grown around the outer walls of the fo
rtress. There are large groups of heathens traveling there for protection as well as to fill worker positions that are needed.
“There is a story that the filthblood girl set a trap for an attacking army and single handedly slaughtered them all with dragon fire. Her dragon is a small but powerful gold-purple called Sisera.
“This brings our count up to four known bondings. Of those four, we are tracking three. We are still trying to locate the bitch from Oxvein. Of them all, though, it seems that this new threat is the most powerful and most well protected.”
“Do we have a cell there on Seron?”
Santaal walked over to an over-filled bookshelf and reached for a large book bound in leather. He placed it on a low table and opened it. After skimming the first few pages he delved deeper into the tome until he found the page. “We do. A group of four were separated to cover more area but close enough that they can communicate and watch over each other.”
“Good. Where is Brother Omar?” Tarak headed toward an intricately carved door.
“In the shops. The engineers have come up with some sort of new weapon for the war,” Santaal said as he followed his brother.
“That’s a positive. We will need as many weapons we can get but I fear we may be outnumbered and outpowered in the coming years. We will need much more than a few new toys.”
4
“Kai Woods, you must be the worst gardener I have ever seen in my life.” Rosalie laughed and tossed a handful of dirt in his direction.
“My skills reflect the ability of my tutor,” Kai said with a devilish grin. He lunged forward, tackled the beautiful, honey-haired woman and they both went tumbling into the dirt, laughing. Kai rolled himself onto his side and pulled himself closer to Rosalie. He leaned up on one elbow and bent down to kiss Rosalie on her button nose.
“I love you,” she said, staring up into his large brown eyes.
Kai bent his face and kissed her plump red lips. “I love you too, Ros,” he said when their lips parted. Rosalie wrapped her arms around his neck. Kai put one arm under her knees and one around her back, rolled over into a squatting position and lifted her off the ground. He released her legs and wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, his head tilting in as he kissed her again. His frame looked huge compared to her diminutive size.
They stood in the outer gardens of the stronghold. Four square acres of vegetables, herbs, and flowers. Some were for eating while others were for medicine. This was Rosalie’s project when she first came to live at the Tower of Kings with Kai. It was decided that there needed to be an expansion of the tower fortress to accommodate the large influx of people that came to support and serve the dragonborn Lady Isabella. What grew over the two years since she had lived there was a small village surrounding the walls of the tower compound that was itself surrounded and protected by a 30-foot high wooden stockade with six guard towers spaced according to strategy. The village had everything it needed to sustain the tower and its inhabitants including a never-ending supply of glacier water from the waterfall inside the tower itself. The village was Kai’s project.
The battle with the invading forces of Kosal had left the entire area scorched and barren. With a lot of hard work and a little magic, the area was transformed into a mighty thriving stronghold. It was amazing how much can be accomplished when there is a dragon at your disposal as well as hundreds of people who moved to the area to serve under the new dragonborn ruler. When they first arrived two years ago, Mara was an overgrown ruin that housed bandits and thieves. Now it was a becoming a center for trade in the region as it was along the road from the major port city of Bridgewater and the Valley of Tears which was the gateway to the northern kingdoms. The installation of a dragon at the Tower had directly caused an increase of trade in the region as people flocked from all around the Western Isles and Partha to serve the dragonblood who singlehandedly defeated an army. Under Kai’s command, the Daxrah worked hard for the last two years to fortify the Tower as well as its surrounding area. Rumors were beginning to get around that the Tower of Mara was an impregnable fortress. The Tower looked as if it was cut into the side of the mountain and thus was surrounded on three sides by massive sheer cliff faces. Invaders would be hard pressed to launch a sneak attack against them even without the fact that they had a dragon who could smell people a mile away. If an army would take the chance to attack and managed to make it to the village the people could occupy the tower and survive a prolonged siege.
“Hey there, love birds.”
Kai dropped Rosalie lightly to the ground and turned to the familiar voice of his friend and mentor Camdyn Porter. Kai noted to himself that Camdyn still had the prowess of a young man even though he was in his advanced years and that he complained frequently of getting too old. Camdyn entered the garden through a short gate. He was dressed in his normal attire of leather leggings and a dark red tunic cinched at the waist with a simple leather belt. Over the left breast was a meticulously stitched black dragon which was the symbol of the Daxrah.
“Hi Cam,” Rosalie said as she released her grip on Kai and went to give the seasoned warrior a hug.
“Your beauty grows every time I lay eyes on you, my dear.” Camdyn embraced her warmly.
“You’re quite the charmer, old man.” Kai laughed and greeted his old friend with an extended hand.
“Well, I was a very well-known lothario in my younger days.” Camdyn gripped Kai’s wrist. “I was sent by Amelia to fetch you for a meeting. It seems there is trouble at the canteen in the village. Some of the new recruits have been getting into it with some of the laborers.”
“I’ve heard some talk among the men. The situation must be escalating if Amelia wishes to meet about it.”
“That it is. Last night there was a brawl that sent more than a few men to the infirmary.” Camdyn turned a meaningful eye toward Rosalie.
“I’ve haven’t been there yet today. I tend to the crops in the morning and the people in the afternoon,” Rosalie said with a smile.
“Well you might not see them when you go but I’m sure you will hear the gossip. The whole village is talking about it. It was apparently our men that started it.” Camdyn’s face turned serious.
Kai raised an eyebrow. “Our men? They are the most disciplined soldiers on Seron and probably on any of the Western Isles.”
Camdyn nodded. “Aye. I agree; however, it is the new recruits who are starting trouble. They seem to believe because we accepted them into our ranks that they are entitled to mistreat anyone they perceive to be lower than them.”
“Lower than them? Well, I guess we need to make an example of this situation. Let’s go see what Amelia has to say.” Kai turned and threw an arm around Rosalie’s waist. “I will come find you later. I love you.”
“I love you too. I will be in the infirmary or the hot house.” Rosalie reached up and kissed him.
“As per usual.” Kai laughed. He turned to follow Camdyn to the tower. His heart jumped as he looked up to see Raven enter the garden through the far gate. He turned to look at Rosalie who just saw Raven enter. He saw the smile leave her face briefly to be replaced with an actor’s smile. Her demeanor changed. She stood a little straighter. She instinctively ran her fingers through her hair in the hopes of tidying up her appearance. Kai could never get used to the awkwardness the two had with each other. Her eyes darted toward him before falling back on the beauty from Solotine. He turned back just as she approached, nodding a greeting in the direction of Camdyn as she passed him on the red dirt garden path.
“Good morning Raven.”
“Good morning Kai.” Almost as an afterthought she turned toward Rosalie and gave a slight nod. “Rosalie.” Then immediately turned back to Kai. “You asked me to fetch you when it was time to inspect the latest reinforcements to the main wall of the tower. The crews finished last night.”
“I am just on my way to meet with Amelia. How are they looking?”
“We should have reinforced them with stone, not wood.”
“I will not have this argument with you again,” Kai said with an exasperated look. “We don’t have the resources. We are already bringing in too many new people. Unless you know a powerful Stoneblood mason then lumber must do. Our stonecutters can only produce so much and we need it for the town expansion.”
Kai saw his friend’s face sour but she slowly nodded. Kai hated being a bureaucrat but the work had to be done if they were going to be defensible. Careful management of resources and personnel was the only way to achieve their goals. Seeing the look on Raven’s face made Kai wish he still indulged in drink. He knew she was right but his hands were tied.
“Look, Raven,” said Kai, his face softening. “I have to meet with Amelia. When I’m done, I will come find you and we will inspect the walls. You can tell me all about how my decisions are wrong.”
“Okay. I will be in the barbican overseeing some work on the gate. I will wait for you.” As the last few words left her lips her gaze shifted momentarily to Rosalie. Then she turned and left the garden.
Kai turned to Rosalie. “I’ll come find you when I’m done.”
“See you later,” said Rosalie as she turned and disappeared behind a garden shed.
5
The massive workshops at Castle Pornoux were a comfortable place for Tarak Kader. He had spent many years toiling in the hot, noisy grime, not only as a laborer but also as an inventor. When he and his brother first came to the Castle, Santaal went to work in the Basilica and train with the priests. Because of his considerable proportions, Tarak had worked in the workshops. He spent many years pounding an anvil and learning the trade of a weapon-smith.
The Brotherhood of the Sacred Blood was always at the forefront of military innovation. A tradition passed down since Garron walked the earth. To fight the fierce dragons, the average humans needed weapons. A lot of powerful weapons. Magic could only do so much. Dragons have a natural resistance to elemental magic. Cold, hard steel though the heart is a difficult thing to resist. Garron was an inventor as well as a priest. He imbued the weapons he created with abilities to aid in their purpose: killing dragons. With the ability to fight back against dragons the humans revolted and the war that lasted a thousand years began. The Sacred Blood honored their patron saint by passing down the art he had created.
Sisera's Gift 2: Sacred Blood Page 2