The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 2 Blood Honor and Dreams (28 page)

The spirit dropped, bent to the floor, and
knelt, head bowed over the drops of the Soulreaver’s blood. The
departure of the shadows had granted faint color to the dead woman.
Jala stared at the long dark curls concealing her mother’s face and
wondered idly how she had never known her mother’s hair had the
same curl as hers. She had never seen it down before she supposed.
It had always been braided and tidy. “Jala my child is the last
remaining Merrodin. Born of rape and raised with love, I kept her
hidden and safe,” The voice was her mother’s. There was no
question, but it seemed weak and broken as she spoke the words.
“Never would I have told you this, Jala,” she said as she slowly
raised her head to Jala. “I would know who has told you this
secret,” she demanded quietly her eyes locked on Jala’s pale violet
eyes, Jala realized with a start. Her mother’s eyes had been hazel
in every memory she had of the woman.

“Your eyes,” Jala stammered dumbly.

“Were always hidden as yours should have
been,” her mother replied, her expression filled with grief. “Who
has fed your soul to these monsters?” her mother asked, once more
in a choked whisper.

“Anthe of Goswin told me who I was, in truth.
She has fed my soul to no one though. I sought her out to ask her.
Mother, I would have found out, and better sooner than later, I
think,” Jala replied, unsure what she could say to bring the spirit
peace.

“Better that you had died with me than become
what they are,” the spirit hissed.

“I think that is quite enough,” Ash said and
clenched his cut hand. The spirit jerked as if on strings and fell
silent. “Her words name you Merrodin. Do you still wish to question
your father’s spirit? I sense a great deal more rage in that
one.”

“If the council is still not convinced, then
we must,” Jala replied and slowly pushed herself straighter in her
chair. She stared at her mother’s spirit for a long moment and then
turned her gaze to the council. “Are you unconvinced?” she asked,
her voice level despite the unshed tears in her eyes.

“It truly doesn’t matter if they are
convinced. I’m here and you have your votes,” A familiar voice
called from the doorway. Stepping forward through the gloom, Lord
Han’shy paused beside her chair and looked down at her.
“Interesting method of proof, however.” His clothes were torn
around the edges and faint rust colored smudges dotted the pale
yellow linen. “My apologies for my tardiness. I had some issues to
deal with in my quarter,” he said with a smirk, his gaze lingering
on the council table.

“Is that blood on you?” Lady Nerathane
sniffed in disgust.

“I thought I washed most of it off,” Lord
Han’shy grumbled, looking down at his tunic. With a shrug of his
massive shoulders, he looked back toward the council table. “Shall
we call a vote then?” he asked.

“I’m done with this farce. Justice is blind
in this hall,” Lord Avanti stood quickly and gathered his cloak
from the back of the chair, drawing looks from most in the room. “I
will be in touch with you Morcaillo.” He gave his fellow lord a
curt nod and spun on his heels toward the door.

“Hmph, never thought my company was quite
that offensive,” Han’shy said quietly looking down to her with a
grin.

“If the dead are no longer needed, could you
please send them back to rest Lord Zachary?” Ash said, his gaze
locked on the silently sobbing form of Jala’s mother.

“Please,” Jala echoed, quietly knowing she
wouldn’t be able to get the image of her dead mother out of her
mind for months.

“As you like,” Lord Zachary agreed, and
flicked his hand toward the spirits. With a rush of cold air the
forms dissipated back into shadow and the room brightened once
more.

“Interesting council,” General Troyelle
muttered as he watched the remaining opposition leave the room
looking rather indignant. “So what kept you, Han’shy?” he
demanded.

“A libraries worth of complaints and
paperwork when I arrived in my quarter,” Jin Han’shy replied.

“Paperwork bleeds in your district?” Troyelle
asked, flicking his hand in the direction of his ruined tunic.

Jin shook his head slowly and dropped into a
chair beside Jala. “No, paperwork doesn’t, the corrupt official
that brought it to me does, however. I took care to send him back
to Morcaillo’s district for burial. As far as I see it, if he was
his in life, the man should be his in death,” he smiled as he spoke
and glanced sideways at Jala. “Congratulations on your freedom Lady
Merrodin. Will you be taking over your own district now?”

“I will. I’ve already begun rebuilding,” she
replied and searched the faces of everyone at the table. She
couldn’t decide if she should warn them of the Blights in the city.
In all fairness, they had come to her rescue and most of them had
children in the city. With a sigh she folded her hands on the
table. “I have had some delays, however, as there seems to be a
minor infestation of creatures in the city,” she paused and turned
her gaze to General Troyelle. “The same creatures that are
infecting Gaelyn as it happens. My Bendazzi has already slain one
of them as has Finn. I’m unsure how many more there are,”

“Then it would seem the problem we thought we
had is much more dangerous than any of us knew,” Lord Arjuna said
quietly and glanced around the table to his fellows. “Let us debate
this issue a bit before we leave and try to find a solution to this
problem,” he suggested.

“How did your Bendazzi, or Finn for that
matter, manage to find them to kill?” General Troyelle asked,
leaning forward in his seat. It was obvious the man was desperate
for any knowledge that could help his own land with the
Blights.

“I believe both of them used nothing more
than predator instincts,” Jala replied softly, wishing she had more
to give the man.

“I see,” Troyelle replied, the flicker of
hope completely drained from his voice. “Let us debate then and see
what we can find,” he said with a nod of agreement to Arjuna.

Jala watched them for a moment then turned
sharply as she noticed Ash heading for the door. “Ash, wait a
moment please,” she called softly, not wanting to interfere with
her fellow lords. Rising quickly she nodded to them and crossed the
room to the Soulreaver. “I don’t even know what I owe you for
helping me today,” she whispered.

“I have already received my payment,” Ash
said, smiling down at her. He chuckled lightly at her look of
confusion and motioned toward where Jexon had been sitting. “Did
you see the look of bitter irritation on his face when I agreed to
help you?” he asked. She shook her head slowly and he shrugged.
“Well I did, and that is all that matters. That expression on the
Lord Reaver’s face was worth more than gold to me. I consider it
adequate payment for the little I did for you,” he explained.

“Are you sure?” she asked in disbelief.

“Positive. I must go for now, but when you
are ready to break the curse, I will find you once more,” he said,
bowing his head to her with respect.

“How did you know?” she asked, watching him
as he began moving once more for the door.

“The dead speak loudly of it, Lady Merrodin,
loudly and joyously,” he replied.

“Then how did my mother not know of it?” she
asked puzzled.

Ash shifted his gaze to Zachary for the
barest of moments and she saw a glimpse of anger. “The dead in
Oblivion are cut off from the natural cycle. The shadows that cling
to your mother’s soul are traces of the corruption from Oblivion.
They do not see or hear as a pure soul would. They see only what
Oblivion allows,” he explained and bowed his head to her once more.
“I will see you again soon, Lady Merrodin. We will speak more
then,” he promised before stepping through the doorway without
another glance back.

She stared at the door for a moment and then
moved back to her seat, her mind whirling. If the dead spoke to him
of it, how many others must know? She wasn’t entirely sure how many
Spiritcallers there were, or whose side they were on, for that
matter.

Fionahold

Symphony stared down at the map in front of
her in dismay. It was among the latest reports of movements the
Fionaveir had gathered. Not only had Arovan and Glis mobilized
their forces, it showed movement from Rivana troops as well as
Delvay. The northern armies were, of course, mobilizing to deal
with the Blight infestation, but the Southern movements could only
mean war between nations. As far as their intelligence showed, the
Blights were primarily in Gaelyn at this time. Looking up, she eyed
Caspian with concern. “Is there anything we can do to stop this
before it starts?” she asked quietly.

“Delvay is not a land that listens to my
council. As far as I know they don’t listen to any council other
than their own. Rivana, on the other hand, see us as outlaws and
should I attempt negotiations with them they would have me hanged,”
he explained with a frown. “It’s going to come to blood, Symphony,
there is nothing we can do to stop it.”

“What of Nerathane?” she asked, her eyes
automatically flicking to the lower section of that continent where
the dragons’ land rested.

“So far we have no news of movement. The
dragons don’t have to mobilize though. If they do decide to send
forces it will be done by the time we get word,” Caspian
replied.

“Another question you should be asking is why
Delvay chose to send Kadan to Sanctuary for the trial. Politically,
that could be important in the future. Nephondelvayon was in
Sanctuary and could have sat as proxy for his lord father, but
instead they chose to send Kadan. To send Kadan to Sanctuary while
they are mobilizing troops is risky. Why do you suppose they did
it?” Faramir asked, moving closer to the table.

“Perhaps Kadan was intrigued from his first
meeting with her and wanted to see what the trial would bring?”
Symphony offered with hesitation.

“Perhaps Lord Delvayon does not trust his
younger son’s judgment and wanted Kadan there for a matter as
important as the rise of a fallen house,” Faramir countered. “If
that is so, you should take note of it. It means the youngest
Delvayon lord is politically worthless in his country.”

Frowning, Caspian shook his head slightly and
sighed, “I never cared much for politics,” he admitted and leaned
back heavily in his chair.

Nodding slightly, Symphony contemplated
Faramir’s words and couldn’t help but notice the absence of the
other councilors. She was sure Lutheron would have had input on the
topic. While Caspian did seem to despise politics, Lutheron seemed
to know the why and how of every political move. It was as if the
man thrived on intrigue. “Where did Lutheron ride to this morning.
I heard them leaving in the early hours. I’m assuming it was
Lutheron, anyway, since he isn’t here,” Symphony said, her gaze
flicking between Caspian and Faramir.

“We received word late last night that a
spell hawk had touched down near Eldagar. Apparently Lutheron had
scouts there to keep watch. That same spell hawk was traced to
Northern Faydwer early this morning. Lutheron and Vaze rode out
with a few others to investigate,” Caspian explained.

“You think someone is purposely moving
Blights into our area,” Symphony concluded, her expression filled
with disbelief. “But that would mean someone was intentionally
working with Kali …” Her voice trailed off and she met Caspian’s
gaze. “Then you believe what Kiernan said, that Myth is working
with Kali on this?” she asked.

“I’m not sure if I do. It’s not that I don’t
think Myth would work with Kali. It’s that I don’t think Kali would
work with Myth. My thoughts on the matter aside, though, Lutheron
seems to believe they are working together and this spell hawk may
be what proves him right,” Caspian said wearily.

“Well then, we should pray Shade’s plan
succeeds if they are simply using Eldagar as a breeding pit against
the rest of the world. I don’t understand why Kali works so hard
against us,” Symphony sighed and fell back in her chair. The sight
of the maps and the Blight infestation was depressing beyond
anything she had ever dealt with.

“I wouldn’t put too much faith in an untried
boy,” Caspian warned.

“What do you think Faramir?” Symphony asked,
looking over to her mentor who seemed oddly quiet on the
subject.

Faramir looked up from the map and sighed
heavily. “At this point I don’t even know where the boy is. If word
reached him about Oma, he might not even be working on his
plan.”

“The last report placed him in Morcath along
the southern coast. All Charm said was that they were stopped for
modifications on the ship. I’m not sure if word has reached him
about Oma leaving yet,” Symphony explained and rubbed her face.
“I’m not really sure how to tell him she is gone if he doesn’t
know. I wish our scouts had managed to pick up some trace of
her.”

“She used magic to leave, that is a
certainty. There is not much that our scouts could have done to
track magical travel,” Caspian said. “About the most foolish thing
the child could have done, given the current times. She was safer
here than she would have been anywhere else.”

“People make poor choices all the time. Take
Delvay and Rivana, for example. Blights threaten all of us and they
are about to fight each other,” Symphony said with disgust and
stared down at the map once more. “I wish there was some way I
could talk sense into them. I don’t think either would listen to
me, though, not yet anyway.”

“There is a possibility Rivana would listen
to Morcaillo or Avanti, but we can’t negotiate with them and they
would most likely urge the war on. Delvay is one of the thorns in
their side, much as Veirasha was.” Caspian tapped his fingers on
the table as he spoke and stared hard at the country of Delvay. “I
can’t think of anyone they would listen to,” he admitted sadly.