The Bonds of Blood (34 page)

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Authors: Travis Simmons

Tags: #angels, #fantasy, #magic, #sword and sorcery, #dark fantasy, #demons, #epic fantasy, #high fantasy, #the bonds of blood, #the revenant wyrd saga, #travis simmons

BOOK: The Bonds of Blood
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“Come in,” she croaked through a
parched throat and dry mouth. Clearing her throat a few times to
dislodge the lump in it she swallowed heavily and called again,
loud and more audible this time. “Come in.”

The heavy door creaked open and Grace
entered dressed in a long brown woolen robe much like the one the
bishop wore earlier that same morning. For some odd reason though,
that seemed like another time. Angelica was still so tired, and she
was not used to going to bed in the morning, so when they arrived
here, dark and in the rain, it had seemed like night.

Grace’s gray hair was loose and hung to
mid-back in heavy wet waves. She smiled at Angelica and closed the
door behind her. She started making her way across the room until
something tripped her up, sending her stumbling forward.

“Oh,” Angelica said about to jump out
of the bed to go to Grace’s aid, but remembering that she was
completely naked she stayed where she was. With a furious blush she
realized what it was that Grace had nearly fallen over.

“You think you could have at least
moved your clothes off to the side,” Grace huffed, scowling down at
the clothes, and then looking irritated at Angelica.

“Sorry, Grace,” Angelica said with a
large yawn. The sun had risen some time ago and streamed in through
the small rectangular window to the left of the bed creating a
slice of gold on the floor, bathing the hem of Grace’s robe in rich
yellow light.

“That is of no consequence. I came to
tell you that you should bathe and get dressed. It will not be long
before breakfast comes. We will be eating in Jovian’s room; he is
feeling better, though he still needs some rest.” Having delivered
her message, the old lady turned to leave.

“Grace,” Angelica stopped her.
“Wouldn’t it be wise to leave here during the day? Isn’t a
verax-acis weaker in the day?”

“No,” Grace shook her head. “If we were
to leave here we would have to make it to the Chaundebar Plains
before we were safe from him, and that is a good fortnight’s ride.”
Grace smiled at Angelica’s questioning look; sometimes she forgot
that the three of them had never traveled this far to the east
before. “The Chaundebar Plains and the Mountains of Nependier are
wyrded places, home to wyrd creatures that the verax-acis and other
dalua would dare not trespass upon. Now, enough of this talk; you
should go bathe before the food arrives.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX

W
hen she made it to
Jovian’s
room, Angelica found that she was
the last to have bathed, though, most importantly, she had arrived
before the food.

“It seems so calm here,” Angelica said
combing her wet, curly blond hair as she sat down in a comfortable
armchair that seemed so out of place in the simple room. She
realized that the chairs and the table they surrounded must have
been added especially for them sometime during the night. “Almost
like we are in a different place all together.”

“That would be because of the Forest of
Life that this temple is built beside,” Grace said, already puffing
languidly on her pipe. “I am sure I do not need to tell you all
that the Forest of Life possess a consciousness of its
own?”

They all shook their heads. It was
rumored that the Forest of Life was a living history of the Great
Realms. Like a kind old man, the woods stood ready to impart their
wisdom on any traveler that entered their embrace. The only problem
with this was the woods told the history in the form of visions,
and in doing so deprived the traveler the ability to know where
they were going. Needless to say, it was easy for one to get lost
in the forest.

Angelica looked over to Jovian where he
sat beside her. If it was not for his eyes being opened she would
have sworn he was asleep. She rested a hand on his, and he looked
up slowly, managing a wan smile before going back to his
contemplation of the deep furrow age had created in the wooden
table before them.

“So I have been wondering for some
time,” Joya said resting her hands on her book of sorcery that she
seemed to be carrying in her grasp since last night. The way she
was rubbing it made it obvious to Angelica that the book was still
as stoic as ever. “Who is Badock?”

Grace motioned to Maeven. “I will let
our soon-to-be votary answer that for you. See how well his
training has taught him.”

“Thank you, Grace,” Maeven said, but it
was hard for Angelica to tell if he was being sincere or sarcastic.
Before he got the chance to answer, however, a knock sounded at the
door, and he stood to open it.

Several platter-laden servants entered,
followed by Bishop Madalain.

“I took it upon myself,” she said as
the servants unloaded tray after tray from their arms onto the
large round table. “To have your meal prepared special for you.
However, as I don’t really know what you prefer I might have
overdone it a bit.”

Angelica was thankful that she had gone
overboard; at that point she thought she could have eaten it
all.

“I took the liberty of having meats
reheated for you as I am sure you have not had a proper diet on the
road. I also saw to it that your horses were safely bedded down in
our small internal stables.” The smell coming from the trays made
Angelica’s stomach rumble and her mouth water. She nearly went
insane when the lids were lifted and she saw a large variety of
meats, eggs, warm bread, fresh butter, fruits, jams, cream,
oatmeal, honey, and finally coffee, which she quickly grabbed a cup
and added copious amounts of cream and honey to. So subdued was she
that Angelica didn’t even miss the cheese she so longed
for.

“Thank you, Bishop Madalain,” Grace
said placing her clasped hands to her chest and bowing her head in
a sign of reverence. “If it would please you, join us. I am sure
this is far too much for us to eat, and we would be gracious for
the company.”

“As the Goddess wills, so shall it be,”
the bishop said, inclining her head. In moments another chair was
brought in for her, and they all made room.

“Maeven here was just going to tell us
all who Badock was,” Grace informed the bishop as the servants left
and they all began helping themselves to food.

“Ah, very nice,” Madalain said with a
warm smile, waiting for them all to prepare their plates before she
helped herself. Angelica was embarrassed to see that she took more
than everyone else, and even more humiliated when she saw the
humble portion the bishop took.

She has probably already
eaten;
she tried to make herself feel
better. It didn’t work.

When they were done feasting, little
remained on the trays by way of food. Angelica helped herself to a
plump peach and more coffee before settling in for the story that
Maeven was eager to tell.

The meal seemed to have done Jovian a
world of good. His skin was once more flushed with vitality, and
his eyes were once more sparkling, though as the dark rings around
his eyes attested, he was far from able to travel.

Madalain helped herself to some coffee
and leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest in a
gesture that prompted Maeven to speak freely of Badock.

“Badock may have been one of the
greatest messengers the Mother Goddess ever took, though few
remember him, and even fewer are taught of him. Like most
messengers, nothing is really known of his youth, for history
rarely takes note of someone’s life until they do something
extraordinary. Badock, however, was one of the greatest messengers
mainly because of the gift he gave to all the Great Realms. That
gift is the Carloso, which most of us strive to live our lives
by.

“There is a reason, however, that the
Temple of Badock rests here at the edge of the Forest of Life, and
that reason is because this very forest is where Badock ventured to
each time the Goddess spoke to him. In that time the forest was
young, and not as easily domineering. That is to say that Badock,
though not many other people, was able to stay conscious when he
ventured into the Forest of Life.

“Badock made three ventures into the
Forest of Life and on each one the Goddess spoke to him. She spoke
to him of her yearly passage, the turning of the seasons, her
celestial body, and finally she taught him the Silver Law, which
became the final and most crucial book of the Carloso.

“In each of these trips different
things were revealed. The first time he felt called as many do, and
when he went in he was immediately accosted with a vision from the
Goddess. It is said, though I am not sure how any saw it happen,
that the vision was so intense that it knocked him flat, rendering
him unconscious for days. During these days he was shown many
things by the Goddess, and finally before he awoke he was told that
all of this he would record. It is actually astonishing that he
remembered it all, but that makes up the first third of the
Carloso, the Trynia. We all know that the Trynia details the
celestial bodies, and most importantly the worship of the Mother
Goddess.

“His second venture in brought him a
vision that was much more subdued than before. In books he
transcribed, which only priests are able to read, he says that the
Goddess actually appeared to him and spoke to him while in the
woods. He also says he believed that the Goddess first gave him
such an extraordinary vision because she wanted to show him that
this was a true communion with her.

“This second venture brought about the
second part of the Carloso. The second book we call the Luminary
because it shows us the light and love of the Goddess. It shows us
her yearly passage, her monthly phases, and the light of her
way—how to prevail against the ill will of the Dalua. The Luminary
shows us how to live our lives as best we can, being mortal and
human.

“His third entry into the woods, as I
have said before, revealed to him the Silver Law, the third book of
the Carloso. This ultimately tells us, though in not so few words,
that the Goddess and we are all one entity.

“At any rate, the temple was so named
because it is believed that underneath it rests the tomb in which
Badock was buried. Of course it has never been unearthed, but
legend says that he so loved the Forest of Life for the gift of the
Carloso that the Goddess presented to him that he wanted to rest
beside it for time immemorial. Actually, I believe his dying wish
was to be buried inside the Forest of Life itself, but as he was
one of the only people that could remain conscious once he went in
… well, you can see the difficulty in such a request.”

“So this brings another question to
mind,” Jovian said. “We know what all the books mean: Trynia,
because of the three basics of worshipping the Mother Goddess;
Luminary for the revelations it shows; and the Silver Law because
of the magnitude of the final teaching. But what does Carloso
mean?”

Bishop Madalain broke her silence to
cut in: “It means ‘Holy Writ’; at least that is what it originally
meant. The High Votary is proposing to the Basilica a change in the
meaning to: ‘That Which was Holy Written,’ though few of us think
the motion will be passed.”

By the look on Maeven’s face he had not
known of this proposal.

“I can’t believe we have gone so long
without realizing who really wrote the Carloso.” Angelica said,
disbelief smothering the inflection of her words.

“Don’t worry about it,” Madalain said.
“Most people, other than the clergy, do not realize who Badock was,
or even that he was a person. Most of the religions of the Great
Realms are now focused around Pharoh and Sylvie LaFaye, as they
were the more recent miracle that the Mother Goddess has given
us.”

An urgent knock on the door interrupted
anymore questions. Madalain looked to all of them. “Are we done
here?”

“My telling is done,” Maeven confirmed.
“There really aren’t many remarkable things to tell about Badock’s
life other than his writing the Carloso.” Madalain nodded her
agreement and returned her eyes to everyone assembled around the
table. The knock came again, more urgently this time.

“Yes, Bishop, we are done for now,”
Grace said clasping her hands to her chest and bowing her head
again. The bishop nodded once and stood, quickly crossing to the
door.

“Yes …?” they heard Madalain say as she
closed the door behind her. However, once the heavy door was
latched, the rest of her words were stifled by the thick
wood.

“What do you think that was about?”
Maeven asked Grace with a quizzical expression.

“I don’t know,” Grace said looking at
the door with great concern.

Angelica cleared her throat and slowly
raised the cup of coffee to her mouth, but as she did she had a
horrible feeling of vertigo. Nearly dropping the cup, Angelica
lurched slightly to the side as her head felt like it was becoming
one with the air around her, drifting, floating on air currents
higher and higher.

At the peak of her dizziness the
sensation suddenly came to a lurching halt, and she was filled with
the most incredible feeling of falling though she was not moving.
The floor seemed to be reaching up to take over her chair and the
sensation made her body jerk involuntarily.

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