Sisera's Gift 2: Sacred Blood

by Robyn Wideman

  He came within a hundred yards of the town and found a tall, sturdy tree and proceeded to climb it. In his younger days, he was a trained scout so the task was easily completed. He found a thick branch from which he could observe the town from above. He settled down with his back against the trunk and watched for a while.

  An hour later he heard slight sounds of rustling in the bushes below. He knew his brother had arrived with the men. He left his branch and made his way down the tree. As he reached the lowest branch he could see the Brothers of the Sacred Blood making their way through the forest undergrowth as silently as possible. They passed his tree without any notice of him perched on a low branch.

  He let out a long whistle that was akin to one produced by a mountain bird. The men stopped and found themselves the best cover possible. All except for Santaal.

  Tarak watched as his brother paused for a moment and looked around. He saw Santaal reach into the wide sleeve of his robe and produce a small packet. Tarak knew that the packet contained premeasured spell samples. Santaal cast his spell and suddenly disappeared. Tarak smiled. That was his trick.

  Tarak scanned the forest floor for any signs of the invisible man. His head snapped around as he heard the slight rustle of leaves.

  “I almost had you.” Santaal’s voice was low enough that only Tarak could hear it.

  “Almost wouldn’t have saved your life had I been so inclined to take it,” Tarak said.

  Santaal ignored the prod and continued. “Anything of note?” he asked.

  Tarak dropped from the tree branch and went to face his brother.

  “There doesn’t appear to be very much security, just as our man had stated.”

  “So, what is our plan?”

  “Find the doctor then find the filthblood and kill him. Simple.”

  Santaal nodded. “Are we going to full assault or sneak in?”

  “Have one of the men go find him and bring him to us.”

  Santaal went to one man and whispered the orders. The man immediately got up and shed his dark robe to reveal the normal clothing of a mine worker. He quickly headed off in the direction of the town.

  As the light of day began to fade the Brother returned with another man in tow. Tarak looked up from the small, leather bound tome he was reading and watched the two approach. The man was in his early forties which a badly receding hairline.

  “Brother Kader,” the man said nervously.

  Tarak slowly circled the man, scanning him head to foot.

  “Tell me.” Tarak’s voice was a low grumble, the tone he used when he meant to be intimidating.

  “His name is Hardo. He is a miner. He came to me one day with an injury to his knee and that’s when I saw the mark. He claimed it was a birthmark that just continually got larger as he aged. He seemed to have no inclination that it was the mark of a dragonblood. I treated his injury and sent him on his way. Then I sent word to the Castle immediately.”

  Tarak could see the beads of nervous sweat forming on the man’s brow.

  “Where is he now?” Tarak’s excitement was growing but he tried to keep his voice as calm as he could.

  “The mine has barracks for housing their workers. He lives in the one closest to the stables.”

  “Yes, I saw them. How many in each barracks? Will they all be there?”

  “Sixteen in each barracks. There is a ban on drinking for most of the week so they will most likely all be there.”

  Tarak thought for a moment, forming a plan in his head.

  “How solid are the walls?” he asked.

  “They are thick to keep out the cold. Stone bricks stuffed with hay to keep the warmth in.”

  “Do they keep weapons?”

  “Most men will have knives or bows but most will have them put away until it is time to go hunting.”

  “Perfect,” Tarak said, then turned to look at Santaal. “We will enter the town under the cover of night. I will keep up a spell of silence as long as I can but you must take over when I enter the building.”

  “You will go in alone?” asked Santaal.

  “Yes, but the Brothers will position around the building in case any manage to escape. The town must not know we are here until it is too late.”

  “What should I do?” asked the doctor.

  “Go home. Wait. Be surprised with the rest of the town. You must maintain your ruse for the time being but you will be rewarded later,” said Tarak. “Those that keep the faith are always the most richly rewarded.”

  The doctor smiled and bowed. “Thank you, High Priest,” he said and left quickly to return to his infirmary.

  The night was dark as the moons were only slight slices in the sky.

  “It’s time,” Tarak said eventually.

  The Brothers of the Sacred Blood made their way through the forest, any noise they made was silenced by a spell cast by Tarak. When they reached the edge of town they all went in separate ways to reach their assigned positions.

  Tarak and Santaal waited until they were certain that the rest of the group was in place, then they made their way toward the barracks.

  “Take a position over there.” Tarak pointed to a large pile of empty barrels. “And maintain the spell of silence until I emerge. I will signal if I need help but until then do not let the men attack, just make sure no one escapes.”

  Santaal nodded and found his way to the position that Tarak pointed out.

  The building was roughly fifty feet long and twenty feet wide. It was a simple structure made of finely quarried fodder from the mine.

  Tarak made his way up to the thick, wooden door and paused. He cast a spell and dark mist began to form around him. He placed his hands on the door and cast another spell. The door shattered into a flurry of splinters.

  He rushed through the entrance and found a group of men gathered around a table. They all immediately looked in his direction, stunned by his entrance.

  “Hardo,” he made his voice echo and boom. A waft of fresh dung filled his nostrils.

  None of the men moved an inch as if they were deciding on what to do next. Tarak scanned the group of hard muscled men. One had a crutch and a bandage on his right knee. Tarak knew that this was the man he was looking for. As he walked toward him, Hardo attempted to hobble to safety.

  “Hardo.” Tarak repeated himself but this time one of the other miners found some courage.

  “Who in the hells are you?” a big, heavily muscled man moved to stand in front of Tarak.

  Tarak smiled but none could see it through the mask he wore. It was time for some fun.

  Tarak launched himself into action. He grabbed the man by the neck and stabbed him under the ribs with a bone knife he pulled from behind his back. This sent the rest of the men into action.

  “They think numbers will overcome me,” Tarak thought, amused.

  He became a whirlwind of death and smoke, his knives cutting flesh as if it were butter. The man with the crutch attempted to escape but Tarak tripped him. The man crumbled to the floor and watched the scene in horror. Within a moment, Tarak made short work of the rest of the man’s housemates.

  “What do you want?” screamed Hardo. “Who are you?”

  Tarak laughed as he stood towering over the man.

  “You don’t even realize how special you are,” Tarak said, wiping the blood that dripped from his blades, onto the man’s tunic. “How special you were.”

  “What are you talking about?” cried the man.

  “Your birthmark. The one on your leg. Show it to me.”

  “What? The mark on my leg? That’s what this is about?”

  “Show me,” said Tarak.

  Hardo pulled his pant leg up. Tarak grinned as he saw the marking revealed. Sure enough, when he twisted his head slightly, there was a large black mark that resembled a claw.

  Tarak reached down and grabbed the man, hoisting him up to his feet. He could see the look of absolute terror that filled the man’s eyes. The look gave him great satisfact
ion.

  “Do you know what a dragonblood is?” he asked.

  Hardo shook his head.

  “Well, unfortunately, that’s what you are. That black splotch on your leg marks you as one. It marks you for death.”

  The man began to cry again.

  “Don’t be pathetic. It is your destiny to die so just accept it. Maintain your dignity.”

  The smell of hot piss found Tarak’s nostrils.

  “Please. What can I do?” the man sobbed.

  “Nothing. There is nothing you can do,” Tarak looked the man in the eyes and slit his throat. Blood spurted from the man’s neck and sprayed over Tarak but he took no heed.

  Tarak let the man crumble to the ground. He felt a rush of energy pass through his veins. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. He closed his eyes and let the feeling consume him. His hand gravitated to the amulet that hung around his neck. The metal was hot but it did not burn his skin.

  Tarak smiled and turned to leave the building. As he walked to the entrance he looked around at the carnage he had wrought upon the room. Dismembered limbs were scattered around and blood covered everything.

  “Garron save you,” he said as he walked out.

  Tarak entered the street to find that all was still quiet thanks to the spell of silence that was maintained by Santaal, who left his position to meet Tarak.

  “It is done,” Tarak said with some satisfaction.

  “No problems?” asked Santaal.

  “None,” said Tarak.

  “How many?”

  “All of them.”

  Santaal let out a low whistle. “You have always been a little savage but this is something else.”

  Tarak quietly considered what his brother had said.

  “Gather the men. We head for home,” he said in a low tone.

  26

  Isabella and Sisera followed the shoreline of Seron, flying as high as possible, to not draw any attention to themselves. When they were about to pass coastal villages and towns, they would fly farther out to sea, but still keeping the shoreline to their left side.

  They flew in silence for a long time. Isabella was contemplating everything that just happened and Sisera was content to let her do so.

  They were making excellent time as they did not make any stops for food as Isabella would just grab light meals from her pack. Twice, Isabella had to relieve herself, which was easily done by finding a secluded beach.

  “It must be hard for you humans to get around,” Sisera said, breaking the silence.

  “Pardon?” asked Isabella, in a somber, confused tone.

  “It must be hard only using your legs,” Sisera said. “It is truly amazing to me that you, as a species, can get so many places using only your legs.”

  “And ingenuity, don’t forget,” said Isabella.

  “That is true,” said the dragon, nodding her head.

  "Do you know where we are?” asked Isabella.

  “We are around the islands where you fought the griffin.”

  “We are not going back there, are we?” Isabella asked nervously.

  Sisera laughed. “No, but it is around here that Tyrath goes fishing. I thought it would be a good place to start.”

  Isabella nodded. “That seems like a good plan. As long as we don’t go back to that place.” She shuddered at the thought of having to fight another griffin.

  “Let’s find a safe beach. I need to stretch my legs,” she said. “We’ve been flying for hours.”

  Sisera agreed, and they found a little cove that had a wide-open beach. When Isabella dismounted, she sauntered at first, stretching her tight muscles. She stretched her arms and bent forward to stretch her back. Her new outfit did not seem to restrict her movements at all, even though it was made of lined leather. She gave it a good test and took off running down the beach. She started with easy flips, jumping over rock formations, then moved up to battle maneuvers, throwing little fireballs at makeshift targets. Sisera watched her, as she had many times before, relishing in the girl’s tremendous skill.

  “It’s superb,” she said, satisfied with the feel of her new outfit. “The seamstress did an excellent job. The Tower is very fortunate to have such an influx of talented craftsmen and artisans.”

  “It is a bit hot, though,” she said, wiping the sweat that drenched her forehead, “and the chain-mail will take some getting used to but it’s actually much lighter than you would think.”

  “You don’t actually need the chain mail, you know?” Sisera said.

  “Dragonscale,” Isabella said with a smile.

  “Dragonscale.”

  “I know. I didn’t have the heart to say anything about it. My mother and Raven were so excited about it..” She thought for a moment. “I may as well wear it, for their sakes. It is not doing me any harm having it on.”

  “Suit yourself,” Sisera said, then paused. “I think we may be in danger.”

  “What is it?”

  “A feeling, a scent? I’m not sure. We should go, though.”

  Isabella could sense the tension her friend was feeling so she quickly gathered her belongings and jumped into the saddle. Sisera began to run, then leapt into the air, taking flight. Isabella swiveled her head back and forth, checking for any sign of danger.

  Sisera’s powerful wings lifted them high into the air. They both scanned the beach and the water but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

  “It was probably nothing,” Sisera said unconvinced.

  “Well, probably for the best anyway. Those dark clouds are rolling in quickly. Looks like a bad storm. Let’s try to keep ahead of it and find either Tyrath or a safe shelter for the night.”

  As they flew north, Sisera could not help but frequently look behind them.

  “What are you looking for?” Isabella asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Sisera. “I just can’t shake this feeling. It’s like we are being watched or followed. I just don’t know.”

  Isabella looked behind them but did not see anything but the landscape and ocean. She did not even see any birds, but they would already be in hiding from the upcoming storm.

  “Let’s find a place to hide out. That storm looks bad.”

  Sisera agreed and they continued north but kept an eye out for a good place to rest for the night. The found a large cave on a little beach but Sisera was sure that she could smell something already living there so they thought it best to try somewhere else.

  “Maybe we should head out across the ocean a little bit more. Look there. Those look like houses on the shoreline.” Sisera pointed out the buildings.

  “It is getting late,” said Isabella. “We are going to lose daylight soon. We may have to take a chance and look inland for a place to stay. We wouldn’t want to be out on the open water in the dark, especially if that storm hits.”

  “That mountain range could have some decent hiding places,” Sisera said.

  “Let’s fly high, though, just in case.”

  They turned inland toward the mountains. They could see no human life below, which was a relief to Isabella. They flew over a wide-open field, filled with beautiful wild mountain flowers.

  “There,” Isabella pointed to a stone overhang surrounded by trees on the other side of the field. It looked big enough for them both to comfortably fit underneath and the trees would protect them from blowing winds and rain.

  “I don’t think I can fit in there,” Sisera said as they landed in the field, near the overhang.

  “That’s an easy fix,” Isabella said as she hopped from the dragon’s back. “Just burn enough of those trees so you can get in there.”

  “That just might work,” said Sisera. She moved to a spot next to the trees and was about to blow out a flame when Isabella stopped her.

  “On an angle in so the trees will still break the wind,” she said.

  “You are a clever girl, aren’t you?” Sisera said with a smile. She took the girls instruction and moved to a spot where the l
ine in would angle to the left edge of the outcropping. She blew out a thin burst of hot flame, controlling the diameter of the line with her lips. Trees began to fall as her flame cut through their trunks. Soon there was a path through the trees, although the path was clogged with fallen trees.

  “Well, it sort of worked.” Isabella shrugged. “We can just fly through there, I guess.”

  “Looks like we are just in time,” said Sisera, pointing her nose up at the sky.

  Isabella looked up and behind her. She saw the dark clouds rolling in overhead. Rain began to fall, lightly at first but grew quickly in strength. Isabella leaped on Sisera’s back and they flew through their makeshift tunnel.

  The overhang was large enough that Sisera could stand at full height and stretch out her legs and wings. The floor was littered with wooden scraps from Sisera creating the tunnel but that was cleaned up with a swoop of her wing. Before that, though, Isabella collected a pile of the shattered wood to use for a fire.

  They sat silently for a while beside a roaring fire. Isabella sat propped against her saddle and munched on a light dinner of dried meat and bread. The rain poured hard but they were perfectly sheltered beneath the overhang. Sisera lay down and closed her eyes.

  Isabella lost herself in thoughts of Makal. How lucky she was to find such a handsome and nice boy. She thought about all the fun adventures they could have together when she got home. What if she could not make it home? Her thoughts turned dark. What if she never got to see him again? She could feel tears welling up in her eyes.

  The rain on her skin brought her back into reality. She looked around and saw that the rain had started to angle into the shelter of the overhang. She began to feel uneasy. She could feel the rain but she could not feel any wind. It was a strange sensation.

  Isabella began to fell a chill from the moisture so she attempted to stand to get out of the rain. Except that she could not move. She could feel the chill getting colder and colder. She knew that she was struggling to lift her arm or kick her legs, but nothing was working. Her body was not responding at all. Then she realized that she could no longer see. The world around her had suddenly faded into darkness.

  Isabella was blind and paralyzed.