Bloodmines: Cheryl Matthynssens

by Cheryl Matthynssens

  Henrick rose up and went to the mirror to look at himself then at Sordith, then back to the mirror. “Why did I not know of you?” He sounded more worried that surprised.

  “My mother chose not to tell you, and would not give me your name.” Sordith was watching Henrick closely. “I knew only that he was a fire mage of an upper tier and that he was good-looking. My mother’s name was Sadira Sammler. She would have been young and overly willing. She had long hair that was the color of a burnished nut.” Sordith looked at Henrick. “Does any of that jog your memory?” He sounded hopeful.

  “Sadira… Sadira...” Henrick moved into the fire to gaze in to it. “I DO remember her. Lovely girl, and as you said, remarkably compliant. I took a fairly long sea voyage after we… had enjoyed each other’s company for a short while, and when I returned, I must admit, I never got round to seeing her again.” Henrick turned to look at Sordith.

  Alador was relieved that his father had at least acknowledged the probability of paternity, but at the same time he was incensed that his father could use a woman and toss her to the side with so little concern. He did not speak, knowing this was a moment Sordith had been hoping to have. Again, he wondered just how many siblings might be trailing in his father’s wake.

  “My mother made me promise not to hold it against you. She admitted the fault was hers and that you did not know of my birth.” Sordith moved to his father’s side. “I have searched for many turns, and were it not for Alador, I would have never considered a Guldalian as a possible parent. I did not think my mother would have aimed so high.”

  “It was not so high at the time,” Henrick admitted as he considered this new turn of events. “I was a fourth tier mage, and Luthian was in the limelight so much in those days that few took note of his quieter, less talented, younger brother.” Henrick suddenly brightened. “This is a cause for celebration! Let me have a keg brought up and we shall drink to this revelation.”

  Both Sordith and Alador hastily shouted “No!” at the same time. Henrick looked at them confused.

  “This is not the reason we are here, and we just got you sober enough to reason with,” Alador hurriedly pointed out.

  “Then why are you here?” Henrick turned to look at Alador. His tone held an edge of hurt.

  “I need you to do a couple of things,” Alador admitted.

  “Not apologizing, meant what you said… and you want me to do a couple of things?” This clearly amused Henrick.

  “Yes,” Alador stood up. “As much as I hate it, only you can do them.”

  “Admit you need me,” Henrick pressed. His eyes held Alador’s in challenge.

  Alador bristled and his face began to redden. Sordith stepped forward and put a hand on Henrick’s arm. “He has been rather volatile since he woke up. I think that damn dragon lives within him. I wouldn’t push it”

  Henrick turned towards the rogue. “You are asking me to help this impudent pup – the ingrate whose life I have now saved TWICE?” Henrick looked at Sordith as his rogue of a newly discovered son let go of his arm. Henrick pointed at Alador, not looking at him. “The boy is hard-headed, ungrateful and spoiled.”

  “Hey now…!” Alador sputtered. He shifted uneasily in the face of that accusation.

  “Have I not saved your life twice?” Henrick crossed his arms as he turned and looked at his son.

  “Well, yes,” Alador admitted.

  “If I was really in with Luthian, why would I do that?” Henrick tipped his head to gaze at Alador.

  “So I can cast this stupid storm spell he wants.” Alador drew himself up, ready to defend his position.

  This clearly caught Henrick a bit off guard and he stared with large eyes as his mouth open and shut a couple of times. Finally, he looked away from Alador and sighed heavily. “Is there nothing I can do to repair this vision of myself that you have created?” he gravely asked.

  “Yes, you can do the two things I ask; then I will see to the end of the bloodmines, which you do appear genuinely interested in.” Alador crossed his arms, feeling empowered now that he had put his father on the defensive. “Personally, I think it is more to spite my uncle than true concern for the dragons.” Alador’s sarcasm was dripping.

  Henrick stepped forward and backhanded his son so suddenly that neither Sordith nor Alador had really had a chance to stop it. “Do not ever question my desire to end the dragons’ suffering,” he hissed as Alador staggered backwards.

  He pursued the younger brother across the room as Alador backpedaled. “You can question my honor...” Henrick snarled. “You can call me a whoremonger and a bastard. You can even continue your tantrums about your mother, but this is never to be questioned.” The tone in Henrick’s voice was deadly.

  Alador’s hand had gone to his cheek the moment he had a chance to recover from the sudden blow. As he drew himself back up, he could feel the heat radiating off Henrick. Their eyes met in equal hardness.

  “Listen, if you two are going to start casting spells,” Sordith said, attempting to ease the tension, “let me leave first? I have no desire to be at the end of a lightning bolt, then set on fire.” He edged backwards as the two mages stared at each other, not seeming to have heard him.

  Alador could taste blood in his mouth as he held Henrick’s gaze. “Understood,” he conceded with a whisper.

  Henrick was still bristling with anger that was not hidden. “What is it that you need of me?” he snapped.

  “I need you to send Mesiande home, in a manner that won’t put her into trouble with the elders.” Alador looked at Henrick hopefully. He rubbed his cheek absently and moved his jaw around as it already felt as if it were stiffening.

  “You have spent months lamenting her absence, and now you want me to send her home after a single evening?” Henrick looked genuinely confused. He slowly turned away from Alador, sighing with disgust. He made his way to the side table, and despite the two other men’s protests, poured himself a glass of wine.

  “You know what Luthian is capable of doing to get his way. Do you think for a moment she is safe here?” Alador asked, a tremor of fear for the middlin in his voice, despite his attempt to hide it. He followed Henrick to the table.

  “Do you think, if he knows of her, that she is safe anywhere?” Henrick poured himself a cup and capped the decanter that held the wine, not looking at Alador.

  “There is no indication he is aware of her yet,” Sordith offered. “I’ve been keeping an ear out for any mention of Alador or those around him.”

  “It is more likely he will find out with her here.” Alador sighed. “And I know if he got his hands on her, I would… I would do whatever he wanted to keep her safe,” he warned them both.

  Henrick eyed Alador over his wine glass. “This skirt is your weakness,” he pointed out.

  “All women are yours. At least I limit myself to one,” Alador gestured to himself, flustered that his father would not just agree.

  “Yes, but when all women are mine, none can really be used against me, now, can they?” Henrick grinned. He moved to the fireplace, staring into the flames.

  Alador waited, as he was afraid any additional comments from him would lead to his father refusing. He sighed with relief at his father’s next words.

  “Alright, I will send the girl home. I don’t see her willing to go, after the conversation she and I had before we brought you back.” Henrick turned back and indicated Alador with his wine glass. “How do you propose to make her go? I can’t take an unwilling woman back and explain her absence. She is likely to call me a liar before the elders.”

  Alador had not yet come up with a solution for this. He had yet to get Mesiande to truly agree to go home. He knew that she was at least as stubborn as he was. He decided that a drink was a wise idea after all and poured his own glass. He glanced over at Sordith and poured him one as well.

  “Finally, now we are making progress.” Sordith moved over and took the glass and decanter. “I will go get more.” Sordith sauntered
from the room, taking the nearly empty decanter with him.

  “Get food too,” Henrick called after him. He looked back to Alador.

  “Can’t you make her forget she was here?” Alador asked, now the one staring into the fire as he drained the glass.

  “You want me to change her memories, and use the type of magic that you have accused me of when I met your mother?” Henrick almost sounded amused. “Seems that your moral lines shift to suit yourself,” he accused softly.

  Alador stiffened as he realized that Henrick was right. He had just asked him to mess with Mesiande’s will and mind, the same thing he held over Henrick’s head when he thought of his mother. “You are right. I’ll just have to convince her,” Alador sadly replied. He threw the glass into the fire in frustration.

  “Short of making her hate you, I don’t really see you doing that. She’s as stubborn as you are, and, short of having nothing to remain here for, I do not seeing her agreeing to go home,” Henrick pointed out, raising an eyebrow at the destruction of his glass goblet.

  Alador realized Henrick was right. He was going to have to make Mesiande hate him to get her to go home. A sharp pain centered in his heart and his breath caught at the hurt he was going to have to inflict. The pain radiated into the palm of his hand and laid his head against the mantel. “Then I will make her hate me.”

  Henrick looked at him in surprise and his demeanor softened. “I do not envy you the words that will make that happen, son.”

  “Don’t call me son,” Alador answered absently, his tone weak and hurt.

  Henrick’s snort of frustration was his only answer. They both were quiet. Henrick sipped his wine as Alador stared at the fire in the hearth, his head still against the mantel. They both startled when the door swung back open and Sordith brightly sauntered into the room.

  “Keg and food ordered and coming.” He looked quite happy as he set the refilled decanter back on the table. “Are you two done discussing the two things?” He looked between the two silent men.

  “No! I haven’t gotten to the second matter…” Alador’s tone was morose as he picked up his head.

  “Well, I do suppose asking to go speak to a dragon isn’t an easy topic to broach,” Sordith offered.

  “You still mean for me to seek out Keensight for you?” Henrick’s gaze moved from Sordith to look at Alador. “I think your first task far easier than your second. The dragon is not one fond of visitors and, as you have pointed out, you shot him.”

  Sordith looked at Alador in surprise. “You shot a dragon you intend to go and speak with?”

  “Yes,” Alador simply stated, in no mood for teasing banter.

  Sordith looked at Henrick. “Does madness run in this family?” His tone held genuine concern.

  Henrick chuckled. “It may.”

  Alador flopped into the nearby chair. “I know it’s crazy, but I don’t see any way of stopping the blood mining other than by enlisting the help of the dragons themselves.” He ran a hand through his hair. “They don’t seem intent on stopping the blood mining through violence or war.” Alador let out a sigh of frustration. “I don’t see a way to fulfill this magically imposed task without them,” he repeated. “It’s not like we have a list of dragons that one could go out calling upon.”

  Henrick laughed at that. “I will see if I can persuade him to speak with you. I cannot promise.”

  “No. I don’t want him to know I’m coming. I just want you to take me to him. I don’t want Keensight ready for me,” Alador insisted.

  “S…” Henrick stopped himself at Alador’s harsh glance. “Alador, that is certain death,” Henrick pointed out worriedly.

  “He didn’t eat you.” Alador countered.

  “Okay, there has to be a story there,” Sordith said eagerly. He looked genuinely interested.

  “Later,” answered both mages, not taking eyes from one another.

  “There is no doubt that you two are related,” Sordith grumbled and filled his own glass from the decanter he had returned to the side table.

  “Henrick, listen to me. I know of no other way to get Keensight to help me than to prove I’m a worthy ally. True, I shot him.” Alador admitted. “But if he’s as intelligent as you’ve made him out to be, then he should see that if I could do that, I might actually be worth helping.” Alador pleaded with the fire mage, “If I am going to finish what the blue dragon pressed upon me, let me do it my way. Your way has not worked out well for me.”

  Henrick searched Alador’s eyes. This time he downed his glass. “May the Gods help us all,” were the words that signaled his concession.

  Chapter Ten

  Alador woke the next morning with a splitting headache and an uneasy stomach. He groaned as he sat up on the bed. He carefully pulled himself up, taking care not to move too suddenly. The room was already spinning, and the light coming through the window was piercing. He had lost track of the many decanters they had emptied. He had not intended to drink that much when he had poured that first glass, but it numbed his fear of what he knew he was going to do today. Meanwhile, the other two had spent the evening getting to know one another.

  The door flew open, hitting the wall with a solid bang, and Alador winced in pain. He opened one eye to see his brother standing there. Sordith looked truly alarmed.

  “What is so important that you come in here like a herd of stampeding korpen?” Alador groaned out and covered his eyes with his hand to shield some of the light that had only increased the pounding in his head.

  “Keelee and Mesiande are taking their breakfast together on the veranda,” Sordith stated.

  Sheer panic shot through Alador. “Shite!” Alador frantically looked around for clothing. He had just shucked what he was wearing the previous day and had fallen into bed. He grabbed his pants from the floor. “I thought you were keeping them apart,” he said as he hopped around trying to get his pants on.

  “I thought I was too. Keelee had been told to stay away from her. I don’t know how they found each other.” Sordith ran a hand through his tousled black hair. “I don’t want Keelee bolting.”

  “Probably Mesi’s doing, she has always been curious. Why didn’t you send Keelee away, damn it all,” Alador cursed as he realized he was trying to put his head in the sleeve of his shirt.

  “Where would she go, Al? I mean, Aorun murdered her father, and she has no other family,” Sordith pointed out.

  “Send her back to Luthian, she deserves whatever he metes out to her.” Alador sat down to pull on his boots.

  “Would you really send a woman who has earned Luthian’s anger to her fate?” Sordith asked softly.

  Alador realized that a strange silence had settled on the room. He looked up to see Sordith staring at him, waiting for an answer. Part of him wanted to say yes, for her betrayal, but the look on Sordith’s face was telling. “You like her.”

  “I do. If you still want her, I will step aside. I do favor her, if you do not.” Sordith moved over, his manner serious. “However, regardless of what you decide, I won’t let you hurt her. She could have given up Mesiande to Luthian, but she did not.”

  Alador could not help releasing a deep heaving sigh. “So she did not … He does not know?” He pulled on the last boot and grabbed his belt.

  “No. You should ask her the reasons she kept the case when you can do so without anger. It is not what you think.” Sordith opened the door and looked back at Alador. “Do you...?”

  Alador straightened his tunic and looked up at Sordith in confusion. “Do I what?”

  “Want her?”

  Alador shook his head then grabbed the side of his head as the movement caused pain. “Mesiande is the only woman I truly want. She is more than enough of a handful for me.”

  Sordith grinned. “Then let us be off to have breakfast with our two lovely ladies and interrupt them before we have a squall on my veranda.”

  Alador stomach heaved at the thought of food. “I am afraid I drank to much last evening. Yo
u have anything for a headache?” he moaned.

  Sordith just chuckled and strode over to the small table that held a silver tray with goblet and wine. He poured a half glass and brought it over to Alador. “Drink up. You will feel much better. Afterward, take in a great deal of water. It will pass soon.”

  Alador bit back bile as he eyed the goblet. “That is the reason I am ill in the first place.”

  “Exactly, so take a bit more to ease the pain of its absence. Trust me. I have woken more than one morning with an angry stomach and pounding head.” Sordith was still holding out the goblet. “Besides, if we don’t get out there, you may have more to worry about than a headache."

  Alador took the cup and wrinkled his nose at the thought. Then taking a leap of faith, he downed the glass, hoping it would not come right back up. “In the caverns, there is a supply of an elixir to cure such an ailment.”

  “Yes, well mages depend too much on potions, elixirs and magic. They don’t know shite about taking care of themselves without these things. If you truly want to be rounded, then continue to learn as one without magic as well as one with. It might save your life at a time when your power is exhausted.” Sordith took the goblet from Alador and set it down, practically dragging Alador out of the room.

  Alador swiftly fell into step with Sordith. He used a bit of magic as they walked to put his hair in order at the base of his neck. “What time was Henrick coming by?” He could not quite remember what they had decided.

  “We slept late, so he should be here in an hour or two at most.” Sordith led the way through the halls to the veranda where the two women sat eating. Through the glass, they could see that both seemed to be smiling. Alador was not sure if he should be worried or relieved. Sordith opened the door and stepped through. He dropped into a gallant bow just past the door. “Good morning ladies. A fine winter’s day to have a breakfast outside.”

  Alador stopped in the doorway, his mouth dropping open as Mesiande turned her head to look at him. Her face was flushed from the cool morning air, and as she looked at him, her eyes held admiration and loving concern. Matching ribbons were braided into her hair and the braids were drawn up behind her head to keep her long hair out of her face. The color brought out her eyes and the burnished gold in her hair. She was dressed in a gown of gentle orange. The bodice did little to hide that she was a woman fully grown. A dark brown cloak completed the ensemble and contrasted with the dress. She was breathtaking. He could not remember ever seeing her look as beautiful as she did right now.