The Bloodwood Curse: An Epic Fantasy Adventure of Swords, Magic and Romance. (The Rosethorn Chronicles Book 1)

by Peter Summersby

  “Sure,” she agreed.

  He turned and led her down a side alley then right down another where the light came from glowing mushrooms of blue and yellow. Then he took her through a vine-covered portal that led into a corridor with several, vine-covered portals on either side. He kept moving rapidly up to the second portal on their left and then ducked inside. The room had a simple desk on one side covered with several open books and a small moss-covered seat. A long bed braced the other wall. A small glowing mushroom of green sat in the far corner near the ceiling. Once she was in he let go of her hand and then readjusted the vines behind her.

  “This is my dorm,” he said. “We can talk privately here.”

  He is not from the capital; otherwise he would have his own apartment. “Where are you from?” Aife asked.

  Ion sat the books on the laden desk. “I am from a small colony near the mountains.”

  She sat on the bed. The moss was thick and soft under her skin. “Ok you have me now in your room. What was it you wanted to tell me?”

  “You have to be careful with the prophet of Din,” he began, looking right at her, their eyes meeting for the first time.

  “Why?” she asked. I am alone in a room with a guy I just met and we both have no paint on. He is looking at me and I feel sad. Why do I feel sad?

  “What the prophet says always comes true,” he rushed out.

  “Isn’t that the point?”

  “Well … yes.” He sat next to her, their legs touching. Another jolt ran up her legs and then settled in her secret place.

  “Don’t worry about the prophet,” she murmured, placing her head on his shoulder.

  “I am sorry I can’t do that.” He stood. “It’s not that I don’t like you it’s… your face.”

  “I understand,” she said, casting her eyes into her lap. “What about from behind?”

  “Your back is just as bad,” he admitted. “But you have nice legs.”

  She looked up at him. His own face was marred with warts and his chest criss-crossed with white scars.

  ***

  Aife strode out of the dormitory and wandered back to her room in the Mother Tree. She pushed aside the vine-covered door and entered her chambers. Small and poorly lit, it was comfortable with a purple grass floor covering and gentle moss lighting. Several branch bench seats were arrayed around the room. Aife moved to her inner chamber. In the centre of the room, a small table stood piled high with books, tucked under the table sat two cushions. On one side of the small room a bronze bathtub on the far wall held a bench made from the root of the Mother Tree. Covered on it were pots of paints and assorted objects, a simple bed covered in a thick bed of moss lay against the far wall. Aife sat on the bench and started to apply paints to her body.

  Aife painted herself in a common blue with a simple striped pattern, without the embellishments that she normally would have painted with.

  Aife stood and stepped through the portal. She turned down an alley way and then ducked around another corner. After walking for several minutes, she looked around. The moss and mushrooms were a gentle pink colour. The trees, while still large enough to hold several houses, were small when compared to the Mother Tree. In the centre of two paths going around it was a tall burnt tree. As she watched a man stepped out from the bark of the tree and then turned down the road. A teleport tree, I have come far indeed. Now to find a place where there is drinking. Aife wandered along the path, listening for sounds of drunkenness.

  “My dear, you look lost,” a gentle female voice called.

  Aife turned and saw an ancient elf sitting in a chair coming out from the tree root; the chair was heavy set and was endowed with a thick moss.

  “I am looking for a place to drink,” replied Aife, smiling at the old elf.

  “Now why would a young elf like yourself want to go to a place like that?” she replied.

  “I…” hesitated Aife.

  The elder chuckled. “Fear not, child, I was young and hot-blooded myself. Turn left at the next intersection and you will be at the Drunk Dragon.”

  “Thank you, Elder,” Aife said and took off. She followed the elder’s instructions and came upon a thick tree with a shingle nailed to the trunk. On it was a drawn dragon on its hind legs breathing ice over a vine-covered door. She stepped through the door and she entered a steep corridor that ran straight down into the earth. At the bottom of the corridor, a large set elf stood leaning against the door. He was painted completely in black except for a thin white stripe that ran across his eyes.

  As she approached he reached out and opened the vine hanging to let her pass.

  “Get into too much trouble and I will toss you out,” he said gruffly as she passed into the tavern.

  Aife tossed him a thin smile over her shoulder as the vine hanging fell back into place.

  The tavern was arrayed with small round tables with several stools around them. On one side of the room a long bench with shelves full of bottles of different types of alcohol. The room bustled with many elves either moving around the room or sitting on the stools around the table. In a far corner on a small stage, a small thin elf sat strumming a guitar; she was painted yellow with an orange pattern worked into it.

  A barmaid approached Aife, only her legs were painted green the rest of her torso was left bare, her chest was covered in a small number of white scars.

  “Grab a seat and, I will bring you a mug of ale,” she instructed.

  Aife nodded and sat down on a chair in front of the musician.

  After a couple of minutes of listening to the quiet strumming the barmaid handed her a mug of thick amber liquid.

  Aife took it and sipped. I was hoping to find a place with lively music; this has the people but not the atmosphere. How do I get her to play something we can dance to? At least the drink is heady enough.

  A man collapsed into the chair, next to her placing an arm around her shoulders.

  “What are you doing in a place like this?” he asked, sloshing his drink across her legs.

  “Nuadu,” called another man. “Leave the pretty lady alone.”

  Nuadu turned to face the other man who sat at a near table. “She is not a pretty lady,” he called.

  “Nuadu, you are drunk,” replied the man, getting up and walking across the intervening space and clasping Nuadu on the shoulder.

  Nuadu stood and then collapsed into the other man’s arms.

  “Do you think I am pretty?” Aife asked.

  The man glanced at her face and shook his head, then turned with Nuadu and helped him away.

  Moisture glistened in her eyes. She wiped it away quickly. Foolish girl, this is not going to work. You don’t know enough about this to get a man drunk enough to sleep with you and still be able to perform the deed. I must try I don’t want my life to be written out for me. I want to take control of my life. Aife took a gulp of the ale in her mug and wiped the spilt ale off her leg, smudging her paint. Look at me worrying about spilt ale.

  The musician struck a new tune and a cheer went up from the people in the room. Several people jumped up and started dancing, in pairs.

  A man stood in front of Aife and offered her his hand. She drained the mug and took his hand. He lifted her off the stool and pressed his body against hers.

  She dropped the mug and let herself be swept away in the music, and the steady rhythm of his blood running through his body.

  His member rose between them and began pressing against her leg. He leaned back and looked at her again and then it fell away. After the song ended he sat her back down and walked away from her without a look back.

  Aife hung her head. Tears formed at the edge of her eyes.

  “Do you want another one?” the barmaid asked.

  Aife looked up at her as a tear streaked down her face smearing her paint.

  The barmaid squatted beside her and considered her face.

  “What’s the matter, darling?”

  “I am hideous,” Aife stated, an
other tear streaking her face.

  “Come with me,” the barmaid instructed.

  She led Aife through the crowd and through a small vine-covered portal beside the bar.

  The room had a single bench that wrapped around the room on all sides except for the one entrance.

  They both sat on the bench.

  “What did they say?”

  “Nothing,” Aife declared. “He took one look at my face and I could feel his erection leave him.”

  The barmaid laughed. “For a princess, you are quite funny.”

  “You know I am the princess?” she asked.

  “Your face is well known. No one wants to risk their life messing with the princess.”

  “What am I to do?” Aife dropped her face into her hands, crying.

  “Why did you come here today?” the waitress asked.

  “I have a prophecy over my life,” Aife explained. “It says that I can only have children with a wanderer.”

  “So, you wanted to try and test it?” the barmaid asked.

  “Mairead,” called a voice from outside the vine hanging. “You are needed on the floor.”

  “Give me a couple of minutes,” Mairead called back. “Let me tell you something. Many people struggle every day trying to find purpose in their life. They would be glad to know what they are meant to do.”

  “But I don’t get a choice in the matter,” Aife complained.

  “True,” said Mairead, “but that I think is a small price to pay; you have your purpose work with it.”

  Mairead then bustled out of the room leaving Aife alone.

  She is right. I shouldn’t fight my destiny. I don’t know when this wanderer will come for me. Let me prepare myself to be the best wife ever. How can I find an outsider to marry if there hasn’t been one in the forest for thousands of years and not even my own kind can stomach my looks? Tears began to slide down her face and rolled down her wart covered face. She buried her face into her hands and cried.

  Chapter 23 Night attacks

  5th day of the 7th month 580th year of the 8th era

  Akuchi sat in front of a fire out by his small hovel the half-moon resting in the sky. The sound of the crackling fire could be heard over the faint roar distant waves. He had just finished planting his first field with tubers while keeping the first field on grain. He sat on a log before the fir, staring absently. A fine coat of sweat glistened on his chest in the moonlight.

  Aquillia approached from behind and sat next to him laying her double-bladed sword against another log that sat to the right of him.

  Akuchi turned and smiled at her. A faint smell of sap and wild grass came over him. Aquillia’s faintly green skin glowed under the campfire light.

  “Did you enjoy the harvest festival?” she asked poking a small stick into the fire.

  “It was quite different.”

  “How so?” she asked looking at him.

  “Well, my family, didn’t really celebrate the festival.”

  “That is a shame.”

  “Because there were so many of us, feasting wasn’t really something we did. We barely had enough food to survive.”

  “Is that why you left them?”

  “Yeah, another baby had just been born and with me being of age…” Akuchi elaborated, “My father gave me my first pair of pants and told me I needed to go find my way in the world.”

  “You had not worn pants your whole life?” Aquillia asked incredulous.

  “There wasn’t any money. We ate what we farmed, that was all there was.”

  “You were never able to sell anything?”

  “Never.”

  “Wow, that is quite amazing.”

  A twig snapped. Aquillia’s head turned and looked into the darkness beyond. Another twig snapped and Aquillia took up her sword. Akuchi reached for his, from its resting place laying against the log beside him. He unsheathed his sword and took up mountain defence stance.

  Aquillia spun her sword in front of her and then brought one blade in front of her, sliding the second blade along her right side, taking up water stance.

  Two dark elves painted completely black came out of the darkness and attacked. Their ebony blades cut through the light, swinging at them.

  Aquillia battered the attacking blade aside and brought the other blade forward and sliced through the gut of the dark elf. He sunk to the ground blood and gore pumping on to the ground. The acrid stench of blood filled their noses.

  Akuchi blocked the first strike with his blade and then side stepped to the left away from Aquillia’s spinning blade and attacked the dark elf with a fluid elbow to the chin. The dark elf fell to the ground and hit his head on the log with a loud thud followed by a cracking snap.

  A third dark elf sprang out of the darkness dual wielding ebony blades. He took up a mountain stance and crossed his blades in front of him. His head swung from Akuchi to Aquillia, and a look of horror came over him.

  “Invader!” he called out. “We own these trees. You must leave this place.”

  “You attacked us,” Akuchi replied and stepped forward bringing his falchion down towards the dark elf.

  “I was defending an ally,” Aquillia called. “I, Aquillia of the Shining Ones, seek counsel with the Dark Ones.”

  The dark elf stepped back as Akuchi lifted his falchion and brought it down again. The dark elf blocked and stepped back again.

  “Call off your dog,” snarled the dark elf. “Shining One.”

  “Akuchi, cease,” Aquillia ordered.

  Akuchi stopped and straightened up. He held his falchion pointing down, limbs frozen in place. The scent of burnt metal overpowered him.

  What is happening? Why can’t I move? Akuchi tried to lift his sword; his muscles flexed and tensed but did not move frozen in place by Aquillia’s command. He took a deep breath and relaxed his muscles. A tingling sensation washed over his arms and legs. I can breathe just not move. What is this?

  “Shining One.” The dark elf relaxed his stance and sheathed his swords into the loops on either side of his belt. “My thanks.”

  “Explain your attack Dark One,” Aquillia demanded formally.

  Akuchi watched as the two elves moved to stand in front of each other and began to talk.

  “We are defending what is ours,” insisted the dark elf, his face matted with warts and lumps.

  “Your nearest safe trees are not anywhere near here,” Aquillia stated. The glow of her skin grew.

  “Shining One, you are hard to look at,” the dark elf, complained covering his eyes.

  Akuchi looked at Aquillia. She was glowing. The fire was behind her but her face was clear to be seen, even at night.

  “Tell me why you attacked us,” insisted Aquillia. Her glow grew and the Dark One winced and whimpered, falling to his knees.

  “The shame is too great, Shining One,” the dark elf grovelled.

  A twig snapped and Akuchi could move his legs. Aquillia turned her head as another dark elf came out of the darkness. She twirled her blade back up and connected with the dark elf’s blade as it came crashing down. The first dark elf jumped to his feet. Akuchi moved forward, lifted and brought down his blade on the dark elf’s neck severing his head.

  Aquillia side stepped and allowed the dark elf she was fighting to fall forward and land on her blade. The dark elf stumbled and landed on the blade, spilling his guts all over the ground. Aquillia pulled her blade from underneath him and let the dark elf fall onto his own innards.

  A howl of despair echoed from the forest as three dark elf women charged out. The women were all covered in paint from black to brown with thin bands of green and yellow. They wielded ebony blades as they attacked.

  Akuchi and Aquillia took up water defence stance and braced as the three warriors came down upon them. Akuchi blocked the first and side stepped away from Aquillia, forcing the dark elf warrior women to stumble forward a few steps towards the fire.

  Aquillia stepped forward and spun the blade, catchi
ng one on the throat, spurting blood. She gurgled her last breath and fell to the dirt. The second blocked and stepped away.

  Akuchi turned on the dark elf woman and brought his sword down on her back severing the spinal column. She collapsed face down in the dirt.

  Aquillia stopped spinning her blade and pointed it at the last remaining dark elf.

  The dark elf looked back and forth from between them and snarled. She then charged forward, raised her blade, and brought it down at Aquillia. Aquillia side stepped and thrusted as the dark elf stumbled past, the dark elf landed on the back blade of Aquillia’s sword. Aquillia waited until the dark elf was on the blade and then pulled it forward, running the length of the blade across her midriff, slicing open her stomach. Blood spurted out of the dark elf’s side as she crumpled down to the ground, blood pooling into the dirt.

  Akuchi squatted beside the dark elf he had incapacitated and lifted her up off the ground by the back of her neck. He looked at her face contorted with rage and fear. A large wart pushed her nose to the left out of joint. Her eyes were different sized and her lip was split and chaffed. She spat dirt and phlegm into Akuchi’s face and snarled.

  “What have you done?” she cursed. “Why can’t I move my legs?”

  “Your back is broken. Why are you attacking me?”

  She spat into his face again and he dropped her back into the dirt. Aquillia came up and ran her sword through the back of the elf’s neck.

  “Why did you do that?” Akuchi asked.

  “She had lost the use of her legs,” Aquillia said, “and unless you want to spend the rest of your life tending to someone that hates you so … this was the kinder action.”

  “I could have gotten some information out of her,” Akuchi insisted.

  “You will have better luck with the men.”

  “Silence yourself, Shining One,” a deep voice boomed from the trees.

  Aquillia and Akuchi turned to face the voice taking mountain stances.

  “Who goes there?” Aquillia called out into the forest.

  “Names are no longer important for you,” declared the voice, “for tonight … you die.”