Blood Bride (Aarabassa World)

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Blood Bride (Aarabassa World) Page 4

by Vickers, Catherine L


  Heimarl was satisfied that the old woman spoke the truth, that indeed she was Minnah’s sister. The mother he saw Rikka’s dreams was the same mother Minnah had. His wife must learn of this dismal news. He did not wish to delve any deeper into Rikka’s disturbed memories. This was not an act he enjoyed doing, prying into people’s minds and he only ever performed this magic when he had no other choice. He never stayed long. Gently he let go of the mind hold on Rikka and left her to rest while he decided what to do with that treacherous nephew of his, Fedros.

  * * *

  The prison was in uproar, Fedros’s weeping had turned into a hysterical wailing. He shouted of his grief and shame of the murderous acts he had committed, begging that they punish him. Crawling on the floor pounding the ground with his bleeding fists, he howled for forgiveness. The guard opened the gate to silence him but Fedros could only see pictures burning in his mind of the fear and pain that the creatures he had hacked to death had experienced. The guard gently kicked at Fedros’s writhing body but to no avail. Bending down to pick up the hysterical prisoner from the floor, Fedros grabbed the guard’s dagger and leaped backwards with a wild laughter. Before the guard could reach Fedros, the crazy prisoner had impaled himself upon the dagger that he now held. Falling heavily forward to the ground, he slumped into a pool of his own gurgling blood. The guard noticed a tiny silver point sticking out of Fedros’s bloodstained back. A bubbly groan gargled in Fedros’s throat, his punishment was now just; he lain dead.

  Rikka listened as the scene unfolded, her eyes wide with shock. She felt no sadness at her son’s death but could not understand his sudden turn of repentance. Never had she witnessed her son suffering from shame or guilt. He thrived on torturing others. What was this? Some magic force must be at play. Was it her Master? She stared over at her dead son, from her cell. Now was the time to act the part of the grieving mother. Now was the time to infiltrate her own family ties and dig a hole to spy from, for her Master. He would be pleased with this new development and she in turn would receive her just rewards.

  7 Fools

  The sun burned to the South, cooking the already dried up rocky wastelands. It was hard to believe that this was the coolest time of the suns cycle for the mid-mountainous regions.

  Heather and Sheba had enjoyed an invigorating ride together. They seemed to have been alone together forever. After she had bathed in a bubbling mountain spring, that fed into a river, she then lay in the soft sun-rays to dry out. Sheba had no care for bathing and happily grazed on the white alpine flower beds.

  Arriving back at the dragon’s lair, she dismounted Sheba and walked the grey dappled mare to a cavern, where the soldiers stabled their own horses. Unbuckling the stirrups and heaving off the heavy worn leather saddle, she talked quietly in Sheba’s ear, comforting her riding companion for not having paid her much attention for many moonwakes.

  ‘You know Sheba you did better in the boat on our journey here than I did. But then I didn’t keep getting out to have a run, like you did. You were good company though.’ Sheba neighed and showed her flat teeth as if laughing.

  ‘When I get the under blanket from your back Sheba, I will groom you until you shine like a mirror. Does that sound good, girl?’

  Heather offered Sheba some pampering treatment. Fastening a nosebag full of tasty oats to Sheba’s head, she took a cloth to rid her horse of the sweat from the ride. They had bonded with a trusting relationship over the time they had spent together. This was an opportunity for Heather to unwind. Contemplating on the words her father had Mindtalked to her, she wondered about her new Aunt Rikka. On his advice, she had delayed her trip to the Darklands.

  Following Fedros’s strange suicide, Rikka was now free of her prison bars and shared Heather’s cave chamber.

  Captain Yanomi had taken a large section of his troops back to Beldroth as he had suspected that a city without a King would soon be in chaos. Sergeant Blackeley had stayed behind with a few soldiers to assist Heather in her deed. She personally had no use of soldiers, but they could accompany Rikka back to the city, when the time came for her to leave for the Darklands.

  Rikka would eventually return to her lost family, Heather’s mother Minnah was eager to meet with her newfound sister. Rikka was a strange woman to have as an Aunt, she had remained fairly quiet since her son’s death and constantly looked at Heather with suspicious eyes. Perhaps she blamed Heather for her loss, believing that if she had acted sooner, then her son would still be here. Who knows what thoughts were flying around in the old woman’s head? All she did was perch on her bedroll humming quietly to herself whilst rocking back and forth. She hardly ate and she never seemed to want to bathe. When Heather tried to talk to her, she just appeared oblivious to her presence, never acknowledging any conversation. Heather had not yet confirmed to Rikka that she now knew the claims to her lineage were true, she had not wanted to disturb her mourning period. Time was running out and her concerns for Raphael grew, she must force some conversation with Rikka before her departure.

  ‘You know young Heather,’ a voice interrupted her thoughts, ‘you could brush a bald patch in that mare if you keep rubbing that same spot over and over,’ Sergeant Blackeley approached Heather in her contemplations.

  ‘Oh dear, poor Sheba. It’s a wonder she didn’t complain. I think she’s enjoying the oats too much,’ Heather said.

  ‘I see, I thought perhaps you were in a trance,’ the Sergeant dared to suggest.

  ‘Nonsense Sergeant, I was merely, well you know, ensuring that this was an extra clean spot.’

  ‘You are clearly fond of your horse.’ He paused to stroke the mare between her eyes. ‘You know that we are to move out at the next moonwake. Are you ready Heather, for passing into the Darklands?’

  ‘Yes, Sergeant. The sooner the better.’ Sheba turned her head around jogging her nosebag up and down, complaining at Heather for stopping her pampering.

  ‘Do you know Sheba,’ Heather looked at Sheba’s large black eyes peering out of the nosebag. ‘You are one horse who is very hard to please. If I stayed all moonsleep pampering you, it still wouldn’t be enough’.

  Sheba grunted into the bag, not really complaining but letting her voice be heard.

  ‘Sergeant, could you kindly ask one of your men to bed my horse down for the moonsleep? I have someone I must speak with.’

  Heather stood close to her horse, stroking the tip of one Sheba’s ears.

  ‘I will not be seeing you for a while, my beauty. You can’t go with me I’m afraid so I want you to take Rikka back to Beldroth and then you can wait for my return at home. Can you do that for me Sheba?’

  Again, Sheba grunted into her nosebag but this time she nudged at Heather and swished her tail around.

  ‘Sshh girl. It’s going to be just fine.’ Heather tried to comfort Sheba’s uneasiness. ‘Do me this favour, and when I return I’ll spoil you with as much sugar cane as you can possibly eat in one sitting. Truly I will soon be back, my girl, so have no fear in this.’

  Heather slowly backed away, leaving her horse in the caring hands of Sergeant Blackeley. She knew it would be some time before she would see Sheba again and guessed that Sheba knew this too. Sadness swelled in her heart as she remembered those whom she loved, worrying over Raphael and wondering if she would ever see Leon again. She missed her father and mother and even all her silly scatty sisters. Suddenly she felt her young seventeen suncircles and longed for her home and the things that were familiar to her.

  Leaving the stable-cave, she walked slowly towards the Dragons’ Lair entrance. Small groups of hungry human soldiers cooked around campfires, chattering quietly. No doubt, they would be relieved at the Sergeant’s news that they were to be on their way home at the next moonwake. Another group also cooked around a larger fire, these were Abapes. They cooked a broth using some strange plant vegetation that Heather had never encountered. They did not care much for the use of herbs in their food. Humans found it quite bland.

  Enter
ing into the larger tunnels of the Dragons’ Lair, she followed one of the smaller passageways. The larger corridors led deeper down, into the dragons’ quarters. The smaller ones led into the smaller caverns where the abapes had made their dwellings. The dragons, rarely seen in the open, remained mostly in the deeper layers of the catacombs. Some of the tunnels were burrowed whilst others had formed naturally. The dark grey and black silvery stone cave walls were fitted with lighting sconces, brightening the way for the human guests.

  Heather moved through the torch lit tunnels until she arrived at her own chamber. Many smaller caverns had been adapted to make comfortable abodes. Each was fixed with a large drapery suspended across the entrance, to give the cavern privacy. Heather lifted the corner of their curtain and entered her temporary home.

  ‘Rikka?’ Heather was surprised to see that Rikka was not in one of her grieving trances. The cave shimmered with a warm yellow glow from a small fire that burned to cook a meal.

  ‘You’re awake and cooking, by the smell of that pot? It smells much tastier than the banquet that the abapes are stewing. Is there enough for two?’

  ‘My dear,’ Rikka stirred the food and laid out two tin dishes, ‘I’ve cooked a special soup for your departure. I hear talk that you leave for the Wall after this moonsleep and we still have much to talk about?’

  Heather welcomed Rikka’s invitation. There was not enough time left to learn much about Rikka’s past but she could at least attempt to welcome her into their family.

  ‘You will also be leaving on the new moonwake Rikka,’

  Heather studied the old woman for a response but her features were unreadable.

  ‘I have arranged for your passage through to Beldroth where your family awaits to greet you.’

  The old woman still did not smile at this news. She ladled the thick soup into one of the dishes and offered it to Heather.

  ‘Rikka, are you not pleased to be meeting your family after all this time?’ Heather accepted the hot tin bowl. ‘Ow, ouch. Let me get a cloth. I can’t hold the bowl.’

  Rikka passed her a small cheesecloth towel.

  ‘This smells delicious. Is cooking one of your talents Rikka?’ Heather sipped lightly at the steaming broth.

  ‘Mother was very shocked at the news of your blood ties but she is looking forward to meeting with you. It is my father you will have to be wary of. Being the Head Mage, he’s suspicious of everything and everybody. Do you think you will cope with all the fussing?’

  Heather ate her hearty soup watching Rikka closely for an answer.

  ‘My child, I only wish you could be with me. I have a feeling that you and I are going to get to know each other.’

  ‘Oh do you think so Rikka, that will be wonderful,’ pleased at these encouraging comments. Heather believed that the old woman was finally accepting her newfound family.

  ‘I imagine my relationship with your mother, that is, my sister will take a little longer. There will be many questions I may not be able to answer, it all happened so many suncircles ago. I will go to Beldroth though, if that is what you wish Heather, but I would prefer to wait for your return here, if I could.’

  ‘I think it’s just nerves Rikka. Perhaps I should call you Aunt Rikka. No, no that doesn’t sound right does it?’

  Heather stood up from her cushioned seat and approached her Aunt, to sit down on the rug next to her. She took Rikka’s bony translucent-skinned hand into hers and spoke to her gently.

  ‘Rikka, you can’t wait in these rough conditions. I don’t know how long I will be. I don’t even really know what is going to happen when I pass through the Wall. Please, go home where you have family to care for you. The dragons are not the best of hosts and the abapes eat very basic food that is not at all nice. I don’t think I will be happy knowing you are waiting here.’

  Rikka felt gratified at the girls fussing, her Master would be so pleased at the trust she was gaining from the High Families of Beldroth.

  Heather let go of Rikka’s hand. She stood up, still looking down at Rikka, awaiting a response.

  ‘Yes, my dear. I will travel to your Royal City and meet these long lost relations. It will help with the grieving of my son.’

  ‘What do you think made Fedros behave that way Rikka?’ Heather had been curious about his behaviour, not realising it was her father who had bewitched the cruel man’s final fate.

  ‘I told the dragons when they rescued us, an evil one possessed him.’ Rikka made to pretend fear in her eyes. She grabbed the bottom of Heather’s blue cotton robe and tugged on it. ‘He may come after me you know. Perhaps this evil one watches as we talk.’

  ‘No Rikka, don’t worry yourself over this. It is the evil one I will be seeking, and I shall not allow him to harm you. You are quite safe now. Come, let’s get you to your bed. We both have long journeys ahead and could do with rest.’

  Heather tenderly held Rikka by the shoulders and led her to a corner where a brown wool blanket spread out over a canvass mattress, stuffed with large evergreen leaves.

  ‘I want you to lay in your bed.’

  Heather assisted the old woman down onto the mattress and covered Rikks’s frail looking body with a course dark blanket. For a short while earlier Rikka had seemed almost regal but now she was once again an old woman. Heather wondered at the mysteries of this strange new aunt.

  ‘You will be an honoured guest at my home,’ she smiled at Rikka proudly, speaking softly. ‘You tried to cure Prince Raphael. Then you tried to save him. And, now, we discover our bloodlines combine. Comfort yourself in this Rikka. I know you grieve over your son but we will help you to find some happiness. You must put your trust in me’

  Rikka closed her eyes revealing crinkly eyelids. Heather smiled at the tired old woman, sensing that she would easily manage to slip into rest, for a short while. She walked over to her own mattress and collapsed down under her own blanket, determined that she too would find the darkness of sleep. With a wave of her hand, she put out the burning torch, leaving the small cooking fire still brightening the chamber with a dim glow.

  The old woman opened her eyes, delighted to have fooled her niece. Her Master would soon deal with such a naive girl.

  8 Mystery Dragon

  Wakening noises stirred from every cavern. Everyone was readying themselves for whichever journey they were to travel. Even Rikka appeared refreshed and packed with a few items for the road.

  ‘I must say goodbye for now Rikka.’ Heather said, on her way out of the chamber.

  ‘Do not go just yet child, I have something I must share with ye.’ Rikka was waving her arm for Heather to come closer. ‘I dreamt that the evil one told me to tell ye something.’

  ‘It was probably just a nightmare Rikka, because you fear him.’

  ‘No, ye must listen to me. I am to tell ye this.’

  Rikka felt her old-self surfacing again. Her Master had come to her in her sleep and told her to tell the Changeling where to meet him on the Dark Side. She had to make the silly girl listen.

  ‘It is about yer meeting, I know where ye will find the evil one because he has told me so.’

  The old woman stood over her packing of a warm blanket and some dried herbs. Noise echoed in the tunnels, soldiers dashed up and down with various tasks. Rikka wore a shrewd intense glare that Heather could not ignore.

  ‘Very well Rikka. What was your dream?’ Heather was unsure if the old woman had just had a bad dream or a real vision.

  ‘Ye must go to the part of the Wall where the yellow sulfurs swirl. Most of the Wall will be a dull grey on the other side, but there is one part that will be, as I say it is. Ye will not miss this. The yellow gasses choke the air. Here he will await yer arrival.’

  The old woman had grabbed a firm hold of Heather’s arm, her fingers white with a tight clutching grasp, leaving red welts upon the Changelings light pink skin. Rikka’s eyes glazed in a wild stare and her crooked smile spoke with an unfriendly wicked twist.

  ‘Rikka! Le
t go of my arm. You have the strength of a bull when you choose.’

  Heather wrenched her arm away from the woman, who’s cackling laughter unnerved the Changeling.

  ‘How could you know the colours of the Wall in the Darklands?’

  Rikka turned away and busied herself by gathering her few belongings, appearing to be unaware that she had spoken with the Changeling.

  ‘What was that my dear?’ she asked Heather.

  ‘Nothing, Rikka,’ Heather stammered with confusion. ‘I must go now.’

  Heather did not linger for an answer or a farewell speech, she quickly turned and left the chamber making her way to the larger tunnels. She was met unexpectedly by a small and somewhat elderly dragon. Hesitating in her steps she admired his display of turquoise blue armoured scales. His eyes had a mischievous twinkle, like two deep blue pools of swirling water with a whirl pool of gold in the middle. He was clearly one of the Elders so would not accompany them on this mission. Heather was sure this was one brave old dragon.

  I am to take you into one of the lower chambers, he gallantly Mindtalked to her.

  ‘Am I not to meet with Queen Thimat on the surface, where there is more room for so many dragons in one place?’ she spoke, seemingly loud in such a quiet place.

  All the lower chambers are large. It is where the dragons dwell, the smaller dragon replied.

  ‘You’re not a very merry dragon are you? Are you unsure of humans, is that it?’

  I wished to go with you but it is too risky for one so old. The small dragon appeared to brood over this decision.

  ‘Why don’t you ask the Queen to intervene?

  Mmmm - the Queen, I suppose that might work. Well, at least my old brain still ticks.

  ‘Oh that’s good. Wisdom can be more important than fighting skills. Let the young face the battles while the wise ones plan the moves eh...’

  The elderly dragon did not bother to reply to Heather’s comments. He continued to lead her on a downhill spiral in a wide tunnel. It was very dark in the depths of the labyrinth, the dragons did not need lighting. Heather waved her hand to produce some light around herself. For all his age and size, the small dragon was going too fast for her and she struggled to keep up with him. On taking a right turn, which was the only way to go, she noticed he had come to a stop and appeared to be waiting patiently for her.

 

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