Victor Deus (Heritage of the Blood Book 1) (43 page)

He had felt his face flush, but his embarrassment couldn't last long under the approval that was coming from the soldiers, as it quickly turned to a sense of pride. That was until McDowell decided he had to play the role of Sergeant.

“Aye, nice work their laddie, but yer belts seem a bit empty to me.” He intoned gruffly.

“If anyone is alive after that flurry of metal, they deserve the kill.” Trenton Grimbash said with a grin, which was followed by a mirthful agreement from the rest of the soldiers assembled.

Victor had never taken criticism well, and his pride made something click inside of him. A grin spread across his face, and McDowell's visage turned to that of curiosity. Before the Sergeant had been able to voice any of that curiosity however Victor was a blur of motion. Diving into a roll he pulled the daggers out of his boot sheathes, and let loose as he came around, a breath later two more daggers appeared in his hand with a flick of his wrists, and joined the first two on their way towards the second target. He dropped into a spin pulling the last of his concealed daggers from the sheath at the back of his neck, and let loose.

All of it had felt like one smooth motion that Victor had never accomplished before that time, but his thoughts on the matter only lasted long enough to hear the thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, of his daggers hitting their marks perfectly. Not finished, he had released the latch of his belt buckle, and removed the stars hidden within, and smoothly flicked them at another target as Bartholomew had shown him to do earlier that day. Earlier, it had been a clumsy motion, but now they left his hands as if he had done it a thousand times before.

Without watching to see the stars hit their target, Victor had turned towards the Sergeant, who was clearly trying to suppress the fact that Victor was impressing him. He had pulled the dagger that Shaylyn had given him with a deliberate casualness. He had then turned towards another of the targets in the ring, and threw the dagger as hard as he could and he watched as it had struck deeply between the crude eyes that were carved on it.

When he heard the chuckles that were directed towards the sergeant, and the intakes of breath at his display, he found that he couldn't help himself from showing off more. He shaped a small amount of energy and turned towards one of the two remaining dummies in the ring, and in moments four balls of compressed force sped towards the dummy.

As the missiles left his hand, he began pulling in more energy, a grin of sardonic amusement spread across his face the entire time. A ball of flame soon leapt from his hand towards the last of the targets, and as it hit, it enveloped the dummy and the area around it in flames. He decided at that moment that he was done showing off. Never before had he felt the urge to show off before, but looking back at that moment he realized that he had no control over the matter. His grin returned however as he thought back to that moment, as he had, as a last act of defiance, simply turned towards the first of the dummies, and began removing his daggers from it so that no one could see how big his smile was.

They had left Safeharbor that following morning, and had now been on the trail for a full day. Leaving Safeharbor had not been the invigorating experience their trip through the lines of power to the Protectorate camp had been. It had started out nicely, but when he was forcibly ripped from the line, and hit the ground hard he realized that it was not the same kind of trip. He assumed it had something to do with the preparation of an area as an exit point. He had watched as the horses came through and landed almost softly, bending their legs as if they had done this before.

When they were getting ready to start out this morning, Victor had asked Zander how long it would take for them to reach the location where Ashur and Shawnrik were. The answer was a non-committal four days. The grin he had gotten moments before faded as he thought again about that destination. Wherever it was, Shawnrik was in pain there, and they couldn't get there soon enough for Victor's taste.

Hold on Shawnrik, We are coming.

Year 3043 AGD

Month of Ragnós

Third Eighth Day

Continent of Terroval

Southwest of Stalwart

Blood Orc Encampment

Hold on Shawnrik, We are almost there.

“Victor,” Shawnrik said sitting up with a start. He had gained consciousness twice before from such a message, but he could not tell how long it was between messages. He had been in excruciating pain the last two times, so the only thing he had done was open his eyes and then fall back into unconsciousness. He expected it was days, but he was not lucid enough to tell for sure.

The unbearable pain that had been his bane had been abating little by little, and as he looked around, he realized that it was now almost completely gone. All that remained was a dull ache in his muscles, as if he had done a hard days work the day before. Looking around he realized he was on the stone slab in the corner of the cell he shared with his two companions.

Shawnrik slowly sat up, his body felt unfamiliar. He realized quickly, as the blanket fell to the floor, that he was also only wearing his under cloth. Quickly grabbing the blankets, he wrapped them about himself as he tried to stand. Shawnrik saw Dunnagan awaken at the noise he was making, and the old Dwarf rose quickly and moved to Shawnrik's side.

“Careful lad, don't move around too much.” Dunnagan said looking at Shawnrik as if he was made of glass.

Awakened by Dunnagan's voice, Ashur awoke suddenly. Quickly he jumped to his feet as Shawnrik swayed, the blood rushing to his head. He sat back down carefully with the help of his friends.

“I told ya lad,” Dunnagan said chidingly. He was however smiling as he said it.

Both men stood there looking at him as if they had not seen him in years.

“First question,” Shawnrik said slowly. “Where are my clothes.”

Both men let out a sigh of relief as if his speaking had been their cue.

“Lad,” Dunnagan began with a chuckle. “Ye've outgrown yer britches. We had ta cut 'em off of ye. They were restrictin' the blood flow through yer body.”

Shawnrik looked at his small friend as if he had gone insane, but continued on anyway. “Alright,” He said taking a deep breath. “Second question. What in the nine hells are you talking about.”

“Let me take this one Dunn.” Ashur said moving up beside Shawnrik. “Here, let me help you up lad.”

Taking his friends arm for the support, Shawnrik automatically felt that something was wrong. When he was fully erect he knew something was wrong. Standing shakily, his hands quivered as he looked down into Ashur's eyes.

*****

Deep Within Dracair Territory

“Everything is falling into place Temendri.” Yandarian said with a grin.

“Yes my brother, soon the trap will be sprung. It was ingenious to use bait to catch even bigger bait so that we could get him to come to us.”

Both of the men clothed in blood red robes laughed at their own deviousness.

“By tomorrow night, the boy will come to us, whether he wants to or not.” Yandarian intoned with sardonic amusement.

“Yes, I think he will enjoy what we have planned for him. If they only knew what they were riding into.” Temendri said in quiet glee as he looked into the pool of blood below him.

The image which was displayed over the pool was of a party of twenty three men on horseback. Quickly the image grew closer, and it became apparent that one of the party was a young boy. The image of the boy grew larger, and the boy in the pool looked around as if uncomfortable, and scratched the back of his neck. Later, the boy would learn to be wary of such feelings. For now, he rode on with a look of determination, not knowing what was in store for him, or his companions.  

Chapter 20

Friends Found

Year 3043 AD

Month of Ragnós

Fourth First Day

Continent of Terroval

Southwest of Stalwart

West of Blood Orc Encampment

What is that thing?” Victor asked, as he and Elandria scouted the area on the western side of the ravine where the Blood Orcs were encamped.
Following the direction of Victor's pointing finger, the fair half-elf looked through some bushes at an animal in the distance. Elandria had been glad when Victor had asked if he could tag along with her. She always hated scouting, and she loathed scouting alone. There was something else though, and she had been trying to deny it for a long time. It was however undeniable anymore once Victor had asked to come. She knew now that she felt safer with Victor around. She couldn't figure out why, and for the longest time she had told herself it was foolish, but now, looking down at the young boy she knew, that as long as she was by his side she had nothing to fear, from anything.

“It's a long way away Victor. At least it's good to know those eyes of yours are for more than being pretty.” she laughed softly as Victor's face scrunched up in something somewhere between anger and suspicion. “I am pretty sure it's a Storm Ram, not many seen this far from the mountains, but it's not unheard of.”

“Why is it called a storm ram?” Victor asked softly, as he continued in the direction of the beast.

“Well, they say that a group of them sounds like thunder when they are on the run. I'm not quite sure how it works, you'll have to ask a Warden about that one. They are the ones who usually train those things for riding. Great animals for rocky terrain.”

Both of them continued to scan the area as they neared the great ram, and Elandria couldn't help herself from gaping at the ram they were approaching. She realized that it was bigger than any other she had heard of, and it's coat reminded her of a storm cloud, especially in the light breeze that was blowing through the trees. She watched as the grey and white fur rolled in the breeze. So wrapped up in her observations had she been, that she didn't notice the saddle and gear that was on the ground near the creature until they were about fifty yards from it. The creature looked up at their approach, but didn't seem to worry about it. It lowered its head and continued to graze on the moss at the base of one of the large fir trees.

“Is that a pack?” Victor asked pointing to the bundle near the Ram.

“Yes, this must be a Wardens mount.” She did a sweep of the area around the ram to see if she could find any signs that anyone else was around. After circling the beast twice, she could find no trace of anyone else going through. “Well, if anyone has gone through here they were very light and very good.”

Victor looked at her quizzically. “Very light?”

“Yes,” she said softly motioning for him to follow. “You see, his hoof prints are the same depth for as far as I want to go look. That tells us that if someone was riding this creature, they weren't heavy enough to make much of a difference once they got off, or that their was no one on the ram to begin with.” She loved the way that Victor carefully thought about everything that he was being taught. Most people she had explained such things to had absorbed the information as if that was all their was to the matter, and moved on. Victor however, would learn something new, and decide if their were other ways he could use the information in relation to the other things he knew. Looking at him now, with the look of concentration on his face, she felt a pang of sadness.
He's one of the most serious people I have ever met.
She thought softly.
Someone that young shouldn't have to take things with such seriousness.

“Well, we can't learn anything from over here, let's see if the beast will let us near him to find out what information we can gather from the packs.” Elandria said aloud.

“Ok.” Victor replied.

As the two turned and moved within throwing distance of the creature, it stopped chewing and looked straight at the two. Both of them froze under the gaze of such a large beast. It seemed to consider the two, as it cocked its head sideways one way, and then the other. The ram raised its head into the air as if trying to catch their scents. After a moment it lowered its gaze back towards Victor. Another moment passed before it moved over towards the bags, and put it's mouth on the saddles pommel.

Elandria was surprised when the ram did this, and then it started toward the two. Immediately, her first reaction was to grab for her bow, but Victor's hand softly grabbed hers before she could move it a few inches. She looked down at the boy, and found that he was looking at the beast, in the same manner that it had been considering them only moments before. Without a word, Victor started forward slowly towards the approaching ram.

“What are you doing?” Elandria stated in a sharp whisper.

“It's fine, he won't hurt us.” Victor said in a manner that calmed her so much that after a moment she got mad at herself for listening.

Victor and the ram approached each other, and Elandria resisted the urge several times to pull the bow from her back and string it. Any thought she had about the animal being dangerous however was abated when it dropped the gear when it was only a few feet from Victor, and lowered its head, in what appeared to her as a bow. Victor lowered his head in the same manner, and went over to the packs.

“Someday, you and I are going to have a talk on how you do things.” Elandria said accusingly, but when Victor looked up at her, it was apparent that he had no idea what she was talking about. He turned back towards the packs, and started rummaging through them. She decided that she would let Victor go through them first, while she kept her eyes on the ram who seemed to be watching the boy intently.

“I would say that no one has ridden this big boy in some time.” Victor stated with conviction. “From the looks of this strap, he undid it himself, and there are a few sets of teeth marks on the pommel. Which tells us that he has moved it around before. From the tracks you showed me, he came from the east.” Victor sat back on his heels, and started thinking. “Dunnagan Stormhammer was a Warden wasn't he?” He asked.