A Matter of Blood Pt. 01

I looked over at her, having just pulled up my trousers. She was referring to my rather plain tousled brown hair. I had never liked it. I especially didn't like it now as its dull color was a persistent reminder that unlike my siblings, I had not grown in magical depth since puberty. I was had gained skill and I took my lessons seriously, to be sure, but there was none of the power that my elder brother had.

"I don't think that ship is coming to port, mother. Despite my excellent blood and best efforts," I said while pulling on my simple tunic, "I do not believe that I will be changing. At all."

I looked over at her and her face was flushed. Undoubtedly had there been more time I would have ended up servicing her, at least. She could be demanding but I loved her and was sincerely attracted to her. It was a small price to pay to make my mother happy.

"Nonsense," she said with a mother's surety, "Your father was the same way when he was your age, and just as unsure that his abilities would come to him. Only I had faith in him. It's part of the reason I ended up a wife and not a concubine. That and we care deeply for one another."

I knew my father had changed late, but I had no idea that only mother had believed in him. I shouldn't have been surprised. She believed in me, and I was generally regarded as a lost cause.

"Thank you," I said, honestly, "Although I don't think it will be soon enough."

I didn't need to clarify what I meant. She was well aware of my feelings for Merwyd.

"Well, be patient. You never know what the future holds. Now, come. Whatever you think about your assignments, you have been noticed. I know your father and uncle are both impressed with your reports and the captains even speak of you without swearing now."

I laughed. The captains of the cavalry, the real commanders in the field, were given full reign to report on any Pureblood of the kingdom that served with them. To prevent disaster and incompetence. And no captain wants to be saddled with a shiftless spare son like me, even if I am charming, handsome, and dare I say it, occasionally insightful.

As we walked my mother got me caught up on court events, inter-kingdom politics with the mainland, and petty gossip. For her they were all interconnected, and I had to admit that she made an excellent diplomat. She would have been an excellent queen, but only Pureblood men were allowed to rule. So it had been for at least one thousand years.

"And that was when your Aunt Segaldia said, 'Enough of your feeble words!' and turned the table over. We had to pull her from the throat of the Dux of Northshore. It was most amusing, although not particularly diplomatic. You would have appreciated it. Like her daughter she is beautiful in a rage."

I'd never told mother about my relationship with Seigaldia's daughter, my sister Adewyn. At least not the romantic parts. She was my elder by a number of years, and was tasked to train me to use a sword when I turned eighteen. As it turned out, she taught me to use both the one in its sheath and the one in my trousers. There was love between us but mostly it was two people in isolation who were attracted to one another. It was...dubious, because everyone knew that, sooner or later, our eldest brother would claim her. Such liaisons happened, however, and I still felt great affection for her.

My mother stopped and it was plain that we had reached our destination.

"We're meeting here? In the sanctum?"

"It is a traditional place for matters of import. I...I'm forbidden to enter. If you're ordered to leave the castle please see me first. I miss you. And, of course, there are some things only a mother will do for her son..."

She smiled at me and walked away. She knew that I watched the swing of her wide hips. Despite the amount and intensity of the sex I had over the course of this morning and last night, I was still aroused. I shook my head to clear my thoughts then opened the door.

I do not know if it was her intent, but I was definitely distracted when I entered the sanctum. Otherwise this might have been a much shorter story.

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CHAPTER TWO

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I opened the door and stepped into the sanctum. This was a place of air and fire and men. No women were allowed here, and shrines to all the gods of the sky could be found lining the semicircular room. A large fire burned in a brazier in the center of the room, and incense-laden smoke warred with fresh mountain air. Interspersed between statues and icons of various kinds were tall windows, as wide as three men. They had no glass or protection of any kind, and were left open no matter the weather. I imagined the lower sanctum of the women was similar, but I had never seen it, obviously.

My brother was tarrying in front of the statue of Rennus, ancient god of lightning and fire and legendary progenitor of the Pureblooded. Undoubtedly he thought he was the second coming.

I do not wish to be unfair to my brother here. There are reasons why he was the heir besides being older than I was. He was taller than me, and his hair was the pure white of the totally changed. He was not the most powerful magus by any means, but he had fully realized his potential. He had the high cheekbones of his mother and sister.

I do not feel ashamed to say that while I considered him a rival, I also considered him to be a friend. I held out hope that one day, if children came from their union, he might release Merwyd from her obligations as wife. As far as I knew she held no special fascination for him. Or so I hoped.

He turned. His eyes looked red from missed sleep, his face a bit gaunt. I was thankful that as the younger son my responsibilities would be similar to my uncle's: commander of cavalry, messenger, spymaster. Such had their own stresses but they could be nothing like my brother and our father had to cope with.

As I approached he turned and smiled at me.

"Do you ever come up here?" he asked.

"I confess that I do not. Aside from the ritual days, I spend my free time elsewhere."

"I don't blame you. I usually come here for privacy, to be honest. Sometimes, I look at Rennus or the other gods and wonder if they are still with us. It does not seem so."

I laughed.

"This is serious talk for early in the morning."

He laughed as well, although it sounded a little bitter to my ears.

"It is only early for you. Not that I blame you, we keep you busy, it is only fitting that you rest while you are home. But I was thinking of the story of Rennus and Uriel. Do you know it?"

I shook my head. I'd studied all of the history and legendry that my tutors had put in front of me, but I'd never even heard of Uriel.

"Uriel was Rennus' brother. He was named for a servant of the forgotten gods. He is forgotten because he opposed Rennus' plan to conquer the nations of mankind and put the Pure of Blood in charge. He thought that diplomacy and ruling from the shadows was best. In the end Rennus killed him."

I nodded, but the particular topic chilled my blood a little. I will confess that I am not always clever but even I had a hard time missing the subtext. He wasn't done speaking. He sighed, looking for a moment much older than his years.

"I don't want to be here, right now. I don't want to be asking this of you. I can't even be sure that...well, that doesn't matter. What I am asking you as your future king and as your brother is to publicly and permanently abdicate your status as heir and Pureblood. As well as any rights of breeding."

He added the last bit almost as an afterthought, but I knew that it was not. I didn't care about the throne, but after all I had done for my family, I was being asked to make myself nothing. And to give up Merwyd or Raisa. I wanted to ask why. To demand a reason. I should have. Instead I responded with a harsh laugh and a single word: "No."

"I'm sorry," he said, and after one more moment of blessed ignorance where we were brothers and friends and rivals, I knew I was fucked.

I felt the dagger slipping in my back, once, twice, and a third time. It wasn't what I expected. It was painful, yes. My first thought, absurdly, was that this person was very skilled at this sort of thing.

It was my knowledge of the simplest magic that saved my life. I was capable at spells at this time, although none would call me powerful. Father had told me that I would grow into my arcana but I had my doubts. Merwyd was younger than I and was far more powerful than I was. Having said that, I'd always been a fast learner, and was clever if not intelligent. Since I could not reach the deeper mysteries or force the greater invocations I went shallow and learned all manner of things.

One favorite was called the Wave of Chaos. It was used as a teaching tool, to demonstrate that no matter how capable you were, magic could never truly be controlled. It caused an object to expel force in random amounts and directions. The fact that I had decided to use it at all shows my desperation. It could have simply sunk the dagger deeper in my back.

I said the words somehow before the dagger reached my lungs, enchanting it. I felt myself propelled forward as if thrown by a giant and I crashed to the floor and rolled. My assailant was flung back into a wall and fell, unmoving. The dagger clattered to the floor roughly where it started. I could see in the dim light a trail of dark droplets leading from where I had started to where I had landed.

My brother swore and picked up the dagger.

"You?" I said. I felt stupid and slow and weak. Things my brother had made me feel all my life, although not intentionally, simply by being my better at nearly all things.

"It should have been over by now," was all Tyr said, "I am only doing what is necessary. I do not enjoy it."

He began to walk towards me with purpose. Were I strong and healthy I would have been unable to defeat him in sword play. Now, weak, losing blood, my organs probably damaged irrevocably, and unarmed, I would not last a minute. I saw the hate in his eyes. I was afraid. It made my decision much easier.

I rose and he stopped, briefly. A cunning warrior, he did not discount the possibility that I had a stowed weapon or more magic at my disposal. I had no weapon and I could not focus well enough to bring forth the simplest of cantrips. Besides that, he would most likely be able to counter any invocation that I used. If he had not hesitated, he could have slit my throat.

Instead I ran, well stumbled, really, to the window and jumped with as much force as I could. I heard my brother's shouts fading quickly. The waters of the High Lake were far below me, but right beneath of the wall. If I could clear the rocks that lay at the shore. If not, well, I probably wouldn't feel anything for very long. I tried to straighten my legs and put my arms at my sides. Then I was surrounded by rushing noise and cold, then almost silence.

I was freezing cold. Numb. I could not move my arms or legs. I would die here, like this. It was the pain in my back that saved me, I think. It did not numb, for whatever reason. I focussed on it, and felt the rage of betrayal rise up in me for the first time. I had never been this angry before. It warmed me like a fire, better than any love could have. I swam and broke the surface, gasping, then awkwardly began to paddle away from the walls before anyone thought to have archers shoot at me. Soon I was lost in the mist of the lake.

Later I would take this as a blessing. The first of few. I have prayed at the altar of water nymphs ever since.

I paddled for what seemed like hours, but was probably only half of one. I would have died but I was skilled enough with an art that few bothered to learn. I drew power from the cold water's purity. It was of limited use to most people, but I knew an old way to replenish my blood with it. It was barely a trickle, but it seemed to be making up for my loss from the dagger. I felt a little rejuvenated and eventually dragged myself out of the freezing water.

I had found this trick in an ancient scroll in father's library so probably no one besides me even knew it existed. I hoped that everyone came to the most likely conclusion, which was that I had died in the fall or drowned in the frigid deep water, although I doubted that anyone would accept it without a body.

I must have passed out briefly because I came to in the freezing muck of the shore. I was filthy and cold and more tired than I had ever been, even on campaign or training with Adewyn. I drug myself out of the water and stumbled towards the lights off to my right. I had been swimming for them, but unsurprisingly had veered off course. This was the castle town of Marche Grodayn. Basically a home for the servants of the castle as well as several inns for merchants and visiting lesser nobility that did not warrant housing in the fortress.

I looked back over my shoulder at the fortress Marche Grodayn. It stood high on a mountain, its delicate tower of sanctuary appearing to stab at the sky. There was only one path to it's gates, which made taking it by force nearly impossible.

Well, I suppose throwing myself out of a window did consist of an alternative way out, but I couldn't recommend it.

Before too long I reached the outskirts of the town. I knew people here. I was a carouser. And I had slept with a number of town women. It was expected of me. Well, probably more expected that I sleep with more acceptable "lesser nobility" like my brothers and sisters, but I found bawdy townspeople more my style.

I went to the back of the Hired Lady, which was the least fine of the lot. It was still higher class than most towns ever had, and would have done well in a city of the continent. My family ensured luxurious accommodations were always available for their friends, even those of the more common variety.

I banged on the back door, loudly. I could hear the raucous crowd clearly. There were arguments over the lists for the tournament next month. The professionals were coming to town and there would be a lot of betting. In the back of my mind I was saddened that I would miss it, either because I had escaped or because I was dead.

The door swung open to reveal a buxom, yet swearing redhead. Thank god it was someone who liked me, most of the time.

"Who the fuck is drunk enough to be banging on the back door of a the fucking..."

And then she stopped and her face paled, realizing who was there and that it couldn't be good news.

"Hey Sarah," I said simply, "I've had a bit of a falling out with my family, and was wondering if you might help me a little."

She grew somber and stepped outside with me, closing the door behind her.

"Oh god. Oh god, Finn, what happened to you? Don't answer. Don't. You know I can't hide you here, my father owns this place. It would me my life and theirs and by brother and his wife and their children. Oh god."

"Stop. I know. I need a horse. And some food or alcohol if you can spare it. If anyone figures out that I was here you can tell them that I forced you to do it, threatened your nieces and nephews. Something like that. I'll owe you and your family."

She looked at me, obviously torn. On the one hand my family could be ruthless and severe. We were kind to our friends but our ancestors had been big on impaling traitors. On the other hand Sarah and I had fucked quite a bit, before Merwyd and I had become something serious. I was still fond of her and brought her and her family presents from time to time. And I was barely ever a lout.

"All right. Take the brown 'un in the first stall on the left. She's fast and smart and has a lot of endurance. And if you let her go she's smart enough to come back to us. Stay here and I'll get you a little food and water. No, wine. You need wine."

As good as her word, Sarah came back with a sack and a skin filled with liquid.

"Thank you," I said.

"Don't be thanking me too much," she said, sadly, "If they come asking then I'm not lying, although I won't tell them which horse you took. I can tell them that you fed me some bull about you being in a fight with your brother and just needing to lay low for a few days, but even thats stretching it, given your condition."

I still smiled and then kissed her.

"Thank you, anyway. I don't blame you. If there's a reward for information, be sure to collect on it," and without waiting for a response I limped to the stable. Riding would hurt but I needed some space between me and my family. If I could get out of the mountains then I would be able to break for the coast, maybe Sondres, and get my bearings or leave for the continent.

I wanted to come back for Merwyd as soon as possible, of course.

Of course I did. Fool that I was.

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CHAPTER THREE

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I had made it out of the town of Grodayn. I felt every bump and jolt in the form of pain, and I tried not to think about the life leaking out of my back slowly. I rode west then took a game trail through some woods that brought me to the only other road out of the valley and rode east. It was weak deception, but I wasn't at the top of my game.

I rode all night, letting the horse navigate roads that were familiar to her. I passed by the eastern watchtower at midnight, knowing that as there was no war it would not be manned. I paused, looking down into the first valley, which stretched and spread out into the flatter lands until it reached the coast. There were dangers, real ones, of being out at night in the wilds, but that wasn't what was on my mind.

As I looked down and saw the twinkling lights of villages and wisps about nasty business, I was aware, solemnly and with a sense of loss, that I was leaving everything I cared about behind. I knew that there was nothing I could do for my sister or my mother. Or any of my other allies for that matter. And that their importance would shield them more than anything I was capable of. They were smart survivors. And they would help me if they got the chance, surely.

Well, I was half right, anyway.

* * *

I rode down into the valley, taking the long route through a field that had gone to seed for many seasons. I was avoiding the parts of roads that went through villages, which required some long detours. I was also in a great deal of pain, and dimly aware that I was still bleeding despite my clever use of magic in the lake. Sooner or later, I'd have to fix it. I wasn't sure I had the craft or the magical skill to do so.

That was when I saw the building. As I grew closer I found it perfect for my needs. The roof had probably been wood and had caved in long ago, but a second stone story was present that still enclosed much of the interior. Our ancestors had built like this when they first arrived. Every building was a fortress back in the days that the Eldest's horrors still prowled everywhere. The first floor was big enough to stable my horse, and was probably used for that, while the second was where the people lived.

It's amazing the things you remember from your tutors when you are dying. I couldn't for the life of me, literally, recall any useful medical knowledge.

I barely avoided falling off of my horse. I pulled my bag off it as well. I decided, after some internal deliberation, to let the animal go free. It would follow its own path and hopefully return back to its masters. Partially I did so out of a feeling of duty to Sarah, and part of it out of the dim hope that it might lead the trail away from where I was actually headed. I was in many ways a typical youngest son of a Pureblood line: I tended to drink too much, indulge in women (well, prior to finding myself in love, anyway), and stay out too late. I was, however, different from the standard in that I had spent a great deal of time outdoors, riding with scouts, and I knew how to move with stealth and survive in wood and mountain. I would do better there if people were sent out in force to find me.