INBORN (The Sagas of Di'Ghon) (19 page)

“Failure is not an option I will tolerate, not even amongst my First. Especially, not my First.” She turned to the soldier who still knelt grasping his curved axes to his chest. “Lay down your steel.”

The eyes of the men of the First shot from him to her. A few nervously looked at Irkhir as if they thought he might intervene. They had all expected the man to die, but surely he would meet the creator with the axes he had won. For a warrior to die without his axes in hand was a tragedy only meant for the gravest of crimes. Better that he had been
stillborn than to be stripped of his honor in the next life.

“Your name will be stricken from the ranks. Your family will not be paid the death sum. You have failed us all.” She held his gaze
on hers, unwavering, as his face went so red she thought he might die on the spot. As a single tear leaked down his cheek into his mustache, the man uncoiled his arms. He stared at his trembling axes as he slowly, gingerly, reverently, laid both axes on the cold hard stone. His giant fingers lingered there on the heavy handles, like he caressed a lover for the last time.

Lisella’s hand flew out from her side, her dagger blade flashing in a descending lethal silver arc. The crunch of the razor sharp blade smashing through the base of the man’s neck echoed through the chamber. The warrior’s arms flung to his sides and his eyes instantly spun so far to the back of his head that only the whites were visible. Lisella twisted the blade with a sharp final flourish and yanked it free. Blood and fluid spurted from the man like a fountain. It sprayed across her face and showered every man beside him even as the sound of her dagger severing bone still reverberated through the chamber like a thousand dwindling cracks.

“His family will be the first we feed to the dra.” Lisella Ontar, covered in blood, still wielding her dagger, stood feet planted wide, as she eyed each and every one of them. A few questioning eyes shot from the dead dra and back up at her. Obviously some of them were paying attention, wondering how she was going to feed a living sacrifice to a dead dra.

“Irkhir, find the Caller and bring him back.
We need another dra.”

A spatter of blood trickled down one side of Irkhir’s face as he glanced back at Patr, who already knew the task would fall to him. Of course it would be him. The man
grew up in the wilds. He was an uncanny tracker, able to read more from a blade of grass than most men could from a book.

“Take Garan and
Keriim with you,” Irkhir instructed Patr, who nodded approvingly at the two men beside him, “and take three more men of your choice.”

“We’ll find him.” Patr said, sounding as though he already had Thaniel in his pocket.

Garan and Keriim stepped forward, joining Patr. The three of them knelt before her. They intoned in unison.

“Mistress.”

“Let me explain how important this is. If you don’t find him, find some widow’s breath and drink it yourself.” She wiped the dagger clean and received three quick shakes of their heads for answers. “Good, why are you still standing here?”

Properly motivated, they were eager to please. Even
Keriim, the grimmest bastard she’d ever laid eyes on turned to go with a snap of muscle. She had sliced him across the forehead just before the first offering. The man had actually smiled at the sight of the child being brought out for sacrifice. Now here he was all business.

Luckily
, she had decided to just wound him and not kill one of Irkhir’s best trackers.

Monster Tears

“It needs pepper.” Harkanin shook a piece of meat at the old man called Lars Telazno.

“He always says that.” Jorel smirked at Gabril.

Gabril sat near the door. Lars Telazno called the man his protector. He obviously was some kind of soldier, although he dressed more like a woodsman, in browns and greens, than the soldiers Thaniel was accustomed to. Yet, there was no mistaking the two swords he carried. Both of the gleaming blades were propped up beside him as he ate hungrily. Thaniel would never forget how relieved he was when Gabril’s huge black horse thundered in and killed a few wolves right off in a flurry of vicious hoof strikes. Yet it was nothing compared to the whirlwind of steel Gabril set loose in their midst with those swords. When the man was done there were steaming pieces of wolves everywhere. Even in the flickering torchlight it was easy to see that the forest floor around the wagon was red with blood.

If they hadn’t come when they did Thaniel knew he would have been in the belly of the pack right now instead of sitting next to Elycia in a nice warm keep. But the sight of those two swords covered in gore gave him enough pause to be too comfortable around them, even if they were all cleaned up now and shining like a piece of noble’s dinner silver. Suddenly Thaniel noticed Gabril smiling at him.
Gabril must think him an ogling idiot, staring at the weapons like it was the first time he’d seen a couple swords. He felt his face flush.

“Pepper? Really?” The old man rubbed at his chin. “I wonder…”

“Nonsense. It’s delicious Lord Telazno.” Elycia closed her eyes as she savored another spoonful. “What is that spice again?”

Thaniel was mesmerized by how her eyes lit up with every bite. He nearly giggled when she scooted closer to him on the bench, their legs just barely touching. The warmth of her shot through Thaniel like a ray of sunshine.

“Mustard. And it isn’t Lord Telazno. It’s Lars.”

“Sorry, Lord Lars.”

“Just, Lars.” He insisted.

“But, I thought…” Elycia glanced at Gabril seated across from them.

“Gabril isn’t my servant. He is my friend.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.” Gabril smiled as he sliced off a piece of meat and pointed the dagger blade at Lars playfully.

“Friends like him, I pity your enemies.” Harkanin nodded at his meat appreciatively. He was already sprinkling pepper all over it.

“I don’t.” Gabril chuckled. The sight of the man smiling and laughing like any other normal human being was a little unsettling. Gabril had danced through a pack of timber wolves like he was playing Foxes and Hens. “They taste great.” He glanced at Harkanin. “Do you mind?”

Samial Harkanin smiled from one side of his face to the other as he sprinkled a hefty amount of pepper across the leg Gabril was gnawing on. Gabril grinned at Lars and nodded.

“Really? Now don’t hold out on an old man.”

“I never thought I would like the taste of wolf meat.” Jorel smacked his lips.

“I’d rather be eating them than… well the other way around.” Thaniel swallowed at the thought of how close he had come. Those teeth had been inches away. How the wolf had gotten itself killed right before it ripped his throat was a complete mystery. He wondered if one of the oxen might have kicked it. Whatever happened, it was pretty timely. Another instant and…

Unfinished. The word echoed through his head.

Lars Telazno nodded affirmatively toward Harkanin as he took another bite.

“So, what brings you up the pass all alone?” Harkanin asked casually.

“I think, him.” Lars Telazno pointed in Thaniel’s direction.

Thaniel twisted around as if there was someone else he must be talking about. The old man just smiled and nodded still savoring the pepper and mustard covered meat. Conversation vanished. Only the sound of fire crackling the wolf flesh could be heard in the small quarters of the stone keep.

“Me?” Thaniel’s voice cracked.

“We have come a long way.” Lars Telazno stood. “You must come with us.”

In the background something about Gabril shifted. He hadn’t moved a muscle but danger seemed to emanate from the man like heat from the hearth. At least those two longswords were still propped up against the wall, although Thaniel didn’t have any doubt the man probably didn’t need them for the likes of the four of them. A fat old trader, two messengers, and a girl.

“Thank you for saving me and all, but I don’t have any business with you.” Thaniel spoke slowly, pronouncing every word while the hackles started creeping up his neck.

“He’s just a boy.” Samial Harkanin said, glaring at Lars Telazno.

“It is easier to show you.” Lars Telazno fished in his robes and produced a small bag. His commanding gaze never wavered, holding Thaniel’s eyes by their power alone. There was something both hard and soft about the man. A mix of raptor like intensity and the reassuring manner of an old uncle. A much older and wiser uncle. One that definitely should be listened to, and obeyed.

Thaniel looked down between his feet at the stones the old man had tossed and giggled.  He was about to tell this Lars Telazno he wasn’t going to be going anywhere with him when he heard a sound. A familiar keening pierced the near silence. It was coming from one of the rocks. A small blue one.

“Show us what?” Jorel bit off a chunk from a wolf rib, juices flowing down his chin. “Smooth rocks?”

“What is that?” Thaniel pointed to the small blue stone.

“Rocks you idiot!” Jorel laughed.

“What is what, Thaniel?” Lars Telazno sat back on the bench, a perplexed look on his face as he dug into a tobacco pouch. The man fingered out a tiny pinch of tobacco and stared into the bowl. He frowned. Then he carefully tapped whatever was left in the pouch into the bowl, not spilling even the tiniest bit of leaf. Seeming to forget everything else around him he lit the long stemmed pipe with exaggerated pulls. Thaniel stirred. He sensed the old man doing something else at the same time. He couldn’t tell what or even how he knew. Only that he was.

Thaniel flinched in astonishment as the sound coming from that stone exploded. Thaniel clutched at his ears, nearly falling off the bench. If he could stick his head inside a thousand bells at once, and each of them was the size of one of the guard towers of Ontar Hold, while men ten times the size of Gabril’s horse bore down on them with blacksmith hammers, it would not be as loud as the piercing wail coming from that little stone. The sound wasn’t just bothering him. It swallowed his head. It was beyond deafening. The screech enveloped him so fully Thaniel thought he could hear it with his toes. It felt like it was ripping his head apart.

Thaniel was filled with need as everything faded away around him. The world consisted of him and the stone. It had to stop. He had to make it stop. Thaniel slid off the bench and clutched at the small blue rock with shaking hands.

The instant he did the sound ceased.

T
he little blue stone burst into azure life. Dread flooded his soul as he recognized the dazzling cerulean glow.

The
n, just as the chamber had done, the space inside the small ramshackle keep ignited into swirls of blue. They danced around him in never ending motion.

Thaniel
’s breath caught at the sight.

He
laughed uncontrollably as tiny wisps of
air
curled around his fingers. He had tried so hard not to think of what else happened in that chamber that he forgot how good it felt. Like a part of him came alive for the first time. Thaniel wanted to see the wind race like it had before. Swirls of current launched forward at his urging. He watched them blast through the door when…

Heavy ropes of blue lightning
encircled him in blinding speed, cinching his arms to his sides. The airy ropes dragged him flat on the ground.

Then everything just winked away.

It was all gone.

The sense of loss that filled the space was palpable. Thaniel sucked in air in gasps as Lars Telazno, pipe still clenched in his teeth, straddled over him. He had the small blue stone in his hand.

“If you can’t learn some control, you are going to live to regret it.” The old man blew blasts of bluish smoke from his pipe. The old uncle was gone, leaving only the raptor in its place.

“Never seen anything like that before.” Samial Harkanin slammed the door shut laughing. “Damn wind blew the fire out!” He paused to point at Thaniel. “Frightened him so bad he fell right off his seat!”

“One.. second…he is… then… he…” Jorel grabbed his gut. He was laughing so hard he was tearing up.

“They don’t see what you do.” Lars Telazno explained. “They can’t sense or see the
Jen’Ghon in any way. They aren’t inborn. All they saw was the door fly open, you fall down, and the fire blow out, and of course, you screaming like a child.”

“Thaniel, how many of you were in Ontar Hold, the last time you wielded the
Jen’Ghon?”

“Jen who?”

“Drop the act boy.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lars Telazno’s eyebrows dropped and he studied him for one of the longest moments of Thaniel’s life, taking short puffs on his pipe. When the old man finally grunted in a self assured way there was a ring of smoke in the air above his head.

“Pay attention.” Lars Telazno raised his hand and opened his palm, revealing swirling blue
air
. The
air
separated into strands and tied into a hovering knot. “You see that don’t you. That is the Jen’Ghon.”

Thaniel looked away from the floating knot and glanced up at Elycia instead. His throat constricted. The lump he hoped he would never feel again returned as he watched her slide down the bench away from him and not stop until she reached the far corner.