Newblood - A fantasy novel for NaNoWriMo 2018; CHAPTER- 4: Blood

Autumn, Year 21 of Koram

Aasia stood at the table ready to end the spell as soon as the elemental change occurred. She had been standing for the past two hours, too tired to sit. Afraid that if she relaxed in any manner she would definitely fall asleep. The room was hot and fetid, the air leeched strength from the body; so much so that Aasia was convinced there was a weakening spell in the room- so subtle that it would pass notice even if some one was looking for active spells.

For the past ten minutes she had been eyeing the flask of blood more than the center of the room where the active spell worked. She steeled herself and turned her body away from the flask. It only worsened her situation, one of her legs had gone almost numb and this movement caused a painful attack of pins and needles. Additionally she lost her balance and had to catch onto the wall to steady herself. She forgot that the wall was covered with runes and she almost broke a pattern before snatching her hand back. Inevitably she was on all fours, her tired mind screamed at her to move but it was too tempting to stay on the stone floor.

The grey stone slab triggered a memory. Pinnet was telling Aasia after months of cajoling how her mother had died. Him climbing down the grey stone cliffs to a boat below and Ellysia cutting the rope. "Ellysia was wise enough to know that a purposeful death is the best one can get. You Aasia was the purpose of her sacrifice." Her heart clenched at the sudden emotional remembrance. But blood she thought, her eyes brimming with tears and her head almost touching the stone floor. Then she remembered another similar incident where Pinnet was narrating their escape from Grendale. ".. We had crossed the river in the night and by trekking all night we had managed to climb the hill on the opposite bank. From there we saw the smoke and the glow of the fire. Later we came to know they had burned the whole village- more than sixty houses, out of spite, because we escaped. They killed all the men and raped many women- an example was made for all who defied Imperial orders. We were shocked to know the kind of Elven horde were we running from?"

With a scream Aasia stood up and made a lunge for the flask on the opposite wall. She opened it and took a huge gulp and then threw the flask into a corner. She sat there chest heaving and limbs trembling for some minutes.Then she got up slowly and took her position, watching the spell as before.

The seven traitors were chained to the wall of the dungeon. Their hands were tied together and the chain looped around a cleat high on the wall. Their hands were stretched above them to allow the balls of their feet to touch the ground. If the rested the hands, the feet would hurt- a continuous punishment. When the Butcher entered the dungeon the captain read their names and occupation. Two of them were Grey Scolier and May Scolier. The captain went on to describe how they had planned the crimes when the name Mahon came up.

When the Butcher could not get any information about Mahon from any of them he smiled. "I always like a challenge. And this Mahon seems to be a key player, the way these people are not willing to give him up. Captain your dagger please." Taking the dagger the Butcher walked down the line, pricking a cheek, poking a shoulder, slashing at an arm. "You see this dagger is sharp and the captain has one more like this. I am going to start here." The Butcher pointed to the first person, it was a young boy- a teenager, thin and gangly. I will cut out some flesh from his shoulder and chest, if none of you tell me about Mahon I will go to the next person, then if I don't have answer the next, then on to the thighs then the face, you get it."

One hour and the death of two of the traitors was all it took. Butcher knew Mahon was mixblood, he had a description and he knew he had another accomplice with whom he had fled Shamarank by the West gate. It was pure chance that May Scolier had died of a heart attack. Grey had made up his mind to give up Pinnet to save his wife. By dusk three parties of guards had left Shamarank in pursuit with the Butcher to follow the next morning.

The last two nights Mahon had dreamed of dark caves and pools of blood. In the dream he would be exhausted and crawling through he cave to the distant light far ahead, but always something hurt him so badly he woke up. They had reached the Green river. The road was on the lip of a narrow valley at bottom of which the Green River flowed. The scenery was neither green nor flowery. The river was edged with deep muddy pools and the banks were all rock and pebble. The valley itself had few straggly trees and thorny bushes. Mahon thought Green River was some ancient lord's attempt at sarcasm.

On the other side of the road it was still desolate. The land was flat but strewn with boulders and rocks, from being as big as a house to the size of a fist. Few trees and shrubs grew by the road side providing much needed reminder of life. Every two- three leagues a path had been carved down to the river for the caravans to refill water and rest. But the journey was faster now that they had sold the mule and were able to gallop the horses. It was on the fourth night after leaving Bolton that they parted company. Sardy was to go on, into the city for provisions and news while Pinnet and Mahon headed straight for Ashvale.

Pinnet told him later that he did not want Sardy to know exactly where Mahon was going. At that time Mahon thought this eccentric. Pinnet was over reacting like the old man he was. But in the days to come Mahon was glad of the caution Pinnet had taken, though he did not get the chance to say so.