Where Serpents Strike (Children of the Falls Vol. 1) (69 page)

Fire melts not where the blade is frozen,

Where the sun ignites the snow at dawn.

Confused, Brayden read it again, whispering
the words to himself. He mulled them over, then read them again,
scratched his head, and read them again. No matter how many times
he looked at them they didn’t make any sense.

Disappointed, he sat back on his haunches
and sighed.

After a few moments he rolled up the tiny
piece of paper and placed it back in the small hollow bone. He lay
down on the ground, examining the bone in the firelight while
wondering why Khalous thought it was so important.

Weariness took him. He slept deeply, but
awoke a short while later, his limbs stiff, his body exhausted, and
his eyes heavier than they were before he had fallen asleep.

Yori was already up, collecting his
belongings. “Rise, my friends. We need to move quickly. The lands
ahead are filled with natives who will take advantage of lingering
trespassers.”

Broderick limped to his feet, his left arm
curled protectively over his ribs. “Where are we going?”

“We’ll pass over the mountain into the
Wilds,” Yori said.

“The Wilds?” Ty repeated, shock and fear
edging his tone. “Cannibals there. Demon worshippers. Them are the
ones who paint themselves with blood.”

“Some,” Yori said, unconcerned. “From there
we go to the land of my people.”

“No,” Brayden said. “We need to go back to
Halus Gis. We promised our sister we would return for her.”

Yori shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. If
your captain told the lord of Thalmia about Halus Gis then the high
king of Edhen knows where you’ve been hiding. He will be sending
soldiers there, if he hasn’t already.”

“All the more reason we need to go,”
Broderick said.

Ty rose from his spot on the ground. “Yes.
Senona is there.”

Yori leaned back, crossed his powerful,
tattooed arms, and glared at them. “Is this how all of you
feel?”

Nash nodded, followed by Preston.

“You?” Yori asked, looking at Clint.

The beefy young man shrugged. “I
suppose.”

“That’s his way of saying yes,” Broderick
said.

Yori nodded. “Very well. I will help you do
this, but it is a waste of time. Everyone at Halus Gis will soon be
dead.”

“Then we better hurry,” said Brayden.

She sat up on her cot in the girl’s
dormitory, her eyes unwilling to stay open. Sweeping her hand over
the top of her head, she pulled back her long mane of brown hair
and rubbed her face. She had not slept well. She had spent half the
night rolling from side to side until the blankets lay half on the
floor and her nightgown bunched around her waist, leaving her pale
legs exposed to the cold night air.

Dana pulled her knees to her chest, wrapped
her gown around her legs and tucked the hem under her frigid
toes.

She noticed Nairnah, her tender eyes peeking
out from under a large bundle of blankets. “Are you all right?” the
girl asked.

Wiping her eyes, Dana replied, “I just
didn’t sleep very well.”

“Anything I can do?” Nairnah offered.

“Thank you, but no.”

“Will you cuddle with me?”

Even though Dana admired Nairnah’s
servant-like qualities, her neediness had become tiresome. Ever
since Brayden had left the girl acted as though she didn’t know
what to do with herself. Her spirit deflated. Her motivation seemed
sapped.

“Sorry, love. I need to get up.”

She set her feet on the stone floor and
cringed. Picking her way through the dark, she staggered to the
communal privies where she relieved herself before washing and
dressing. By the time she reached the breakfast table, she still
felt as though her head was in a fog. Something in her heart felt
raw.

In the dining hall, Ariella and the cooking
staff were chatting about the new duktori who was scheduled to
arrive today.

“Waylaid by bad weather, Gravis says,” said
Sister Marleenious as her suety fingers chopped carrots. “Seems
winter has come at last in some parts east of here.”

“It will be upon us soon enough.”

Ariella hoisted a large metal colander out
of the sink. She shook it a few times, draining it of the last few
drops of water. “He should be here this afternoon.” She noticed
Dana standing in the doorway and her face grew concerned. “Good
morning, love. Are you all right?”

Dana hugged her arms around her stomach.
“Just didn’t sleep well.”

She didn’t know why, but she felt restless
inside, nervous. Halus Gis had not fared so well the last time
significant new changes were introduced. Granted those changes were
at the hands of the less competent Prior Gravis, still she couldn’t
help feeling leery of whatever changes the new duktori would
bring.

“You need some breakfast in you,” Sister
Marleenious said. “Come have your fill, love. You’ll feel right as
a bud in spring.”

Dana didn’t feel hungry, but she ate
anyway.

Prior Gravis found Dana and Nairnah after
breakfast. He strode over to them in a long brown robe and red
sash, his hands tented pensively in front of him. He instructed
them to give the abbot’s bedchambers another sweeping, much to
Dana’s displeasure. “And do make sure the shelves are free of dust,
the books are organized, and that there is wood available for the
fire. I wish to make the new duktori as comfortable as possible.”
He strode away without waiting for them to acknowledge what he had
said.

“He seems determined to impress the new
duktori,” Nairnah said as Dana followed her out of the kitchen.
“Pompous scoundrel.”

Since Duktori Bendrosi’s death, Prior Gravis
had governed Halus Gis with as much cheer as one could find in the
crypt below the chapel. His words were as hollow as its old bones,
and his demeanor as cold as the walls upon which they hung. Both
Dana and Nairnah, along with many others, were looking forward to
the day that Gravis was relieved of his place at Halus Gis.

Dana stepped outside behind Nairnah and
followed her to the dormitory. The hem of her skirt bobbed around
her heels with every lucid step while her hair, drawn back in a
jaunty bow, swung like a horsetail behind her.

“You’re in a bouncy mood,” Dana
remarked.

“A new duktori is coming, which means Gravis
won’t be in charge much longer.”

“Maybe, but there’s a chance the duktori
could appoint Gravis the new head of Halus Gis.”

“I don’t think so. Gravis has no cheer, no
softness, and an abbot needs to be soft.”

The girls entered the dormitory building and
climbed the stairs to the duktori’s private chambers. Dana pushed
open the bedroom door. She realized that she hadn’t set foot inside
since the night the abbot passed. She remembered watching his
convulsions from the doorway, the way his muscles contorted his
limbs against his will. She couldn’t tell if the faint whiff of
human excrement in the air was real or if it was just a figment of
her imagination.

Nairnah grabbed a dust rag and went to work
on the shelves.

Dana walked to the window, a latticework of
small square panes that curved outward to provide a broad view of
the northern sea. She stood there a moment, taking in the view,
unable to shake the queasy feeling in her gut.

“Do you ever miss it?” Nairnah asked.

“Miss what?”

“Castle life?”

“Sometimes.”

“I think I’d miss it a lot.” Nairnah
simpered.

“In what ways?” Dana picked up a broom and
started sweeping.

“I remember seeing you once standing in the
sunlight in the town square. You had on a fine linen dress dyed
pale yellow, with white lace along the hem and embroidered flowers.
I always wondered what it would be like to have a dress that
beautiful.” She paused a moment to laugh at herself. “If I were a
princess, I’d probably have a new dress made for me every day.”

Dana thought her whimsical notions were
amusing. “Believe me, it all gets quite tiresome after a
while.”

“You didn’t like being a princess?”

Now it was Dana’s turn to laugh. “I didn’t
say that. It might look like a life full of riches and nice
dresses, but for all of its abundance it lacks many other things.
Simple things.”

“Like what?”

Dana brushed a few rolls of dust into a
wooden bin that she dumped in the trash. “Friendship. How many
times did your parents ever tell you not to play with certain
children, or act certain ways?”

“A few times.”

“Well we heard it every day. Little princes
and little princesses need to know how to behave, and we have an
endless line of attendants at the ready to remind us the moment we
err. There are many expectations put on us, many responsibilities.
Take Brayden, for example. As the eldest son it was his duty to
learn to govern the kingdom from the moment he was able. Books and
studying and tutors and mentors. Not always as wonderful as some
assume.”

“So do you prefer
this
?” Nairnah
asked, gesturing toward Dana’s broom with her dusty rag.

Dana stopped sweeping and thought for a
moment. She had to admit, the past few years at Halus Gis had given
her a purpose she’d never felt before. The lifestyle was simpler,
and she was making a difference in the lives of orphans and widows
every day.

She opened her mouth to give her answer when
the bell within the chapel’s tower sounded throughout the
monastery. The girls ran to the east window and looked out toward
the southeast hills where a group of riders could be seen cresting
the grassy dome.

“The duktori!” Nairnah exclaimed. She pulled
herself away from the window and trotted down the stairs, beckoning
Dana to follow.

With a nervous flutter in her heart Dana
moved from the bedroom, down the stairs, and out into the street.
People were emerging from all corners of the monastery—nuns from
the orchards, men from the workshops, widows, orphans, and lay
servants from the dorms and outbuildings. They bundled blankets and
cloaks around themselves to guard against the snowless cold, mouths
puffing white into the air.

Pick was munching on an apple when he came
out of the barn and fell in step alongside Dana. He was a welcome
sight to Dana’s eyes, even if he did reek of barn.

“Finally some new leadership around here,”
he said quietly. “Gravis has me ready to slit his throat.” Noticing
the worried expression on her face, he asked, “Is everything all
right?”

She crossed her arms and shivered from the
early morning cold. “Just worried, I guess.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. I suspect a
duktori will do this place good. You just wait and see.”

Prior Gravis called out last minute matters
of etiquette, reminding people to bow their heads upon the
duktori’s arrival, to bow even lower if he approached them, and to
show nothing but utmost reverence for “his holiness,” but no one
was listening. They were all looking down the main road in hopeful
anticipation.

Dana stood next to Ariella. The middle-aged
woman put a gentle arm around her shoulders and offered a
reassuring smile.

The first of the riders trotted up over the
hill and around the bend. He wore the plain white and brown colors
of his order and bore a flag bearing the yellow symbol of
Omneesah.

At first, Dana felt her heart swell with
relief, but then she noticed the sword hanging from his belt, and
the black and silver armor covering his legs. His horse was armored
as well.

“What is that?” murmured one of the lay
servants.

The soldier tore off the robe, revealing his
armor underneath and the glistening silver serpentine emblem of the
high king of Edhen.

Dana stepped forward. Her gaze sharpened a
trifle. Her eyes drifted from the mounted soldier, along the rope
in his hands, to the horse attached to the other end. Sitting atop
the animal was a bloodied holy man.

“The duktori!” someone exclaimed.

“What have they done?”

Ariella grabbed her and pulled her into the
crowd. “Dana, get back! If they find you here, they will kill
you!”

“They’ll kill us all,” Dana replied.

Gasps and whispers of horror washed over the
crowd.

The duktori’s face had been beaten and cut
to the point of being unrecognizable. His left hand was missing
several fingers, and his clothing lay draped over his body in
bloody shreds. There was no doubt it was the duktori, however, as
evidenced by the familiar yellow sash around his neck and the white
cap covering the top of his bloodied head. He had a gag in his
mouth and his hands were bound in front of him.

“My lord!” Gravis shouted, bolting out into
the street toward the helpless abbot. “What in the name of…” He
looked at the soldier leading the way, a tall commanding officer.
“Who are you? Why have you done this to—”

“Silence!” the black viper barked, his mouth
spewing a small white cloud. He was an ugly man with a big brown
beard and a fat nose. A rag of dark hair hung over his pale
forehead, complimenting his bushy brows that drew down in a
perpetual scowl.

Behind him came a contingent of black
soldiers, all of whom had cast aside their priestly disguises. Dana
estimated that there were more than twenty in all.

“My name is Marshal Garnock Welsh,” he said
in a guttural, bear-like tone. “I have come here on behalf of High
King Orkrash Mahl and demand that you hand over any refugees of
Aberdour that may be hiding here.”

“This is an outrage!” Gravis said. He
approached the commander, arms open in surrender. “This monastery
is a place of peace. We have no quarrel with you.”

Garnock moved his horse forward to confront
Gravis. He slammed his boot into the prior’s chin sending him
tumbling back into the mud. The marshal smiled revealing two
missing teeth on the right side of his bearded face.