The certainty of blood, p.49
The Certainty of Blood, page 49
She put a hand over her mouth. “You… you don’t mean that.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” The words were more savage than he’d intended, but they came anyway, torn from the depths of his shattered heart.
Kekeen’s eyes welled up. She didn’t answer.
Clanless tore his eyes away from her. “Koland! Are you finished yet? Let’s get this over with!” It was, perhaps, the cruelest thing he’d ever done.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
As Clanless and Koland made their way out through the dining area, Bain got to his feet. “What’s happening?”
“Koland has something to show me elsewhere in the city,” Clanless told him, still trembling from his conversation with Kekeen. He tossed his fur pelt to Bain. “Can you return this for me? I’ll see you back at the arena.”
“Are you sure?” Bain glanced at the storyteller. “You might not want—”
“It’ll be fine,” Clanless cut him off. “Goodbye, Bain.” He stepped outside and pulled on the cloak he used to disguise his appearance. It wouldn’t do to be recognized on this kind of trip. Without his fur and with his brand covered, he might be any other man on the street… a large man, but just a man.
Koland didn’t speak from the moment he got to his feet until he and Clanless were several blocks away from the eating house. “Words said in an instant of anger can lead to years of regret,” he said without preamble.
“Is it your business?” Clanless didn’t want to have this discussion.
“The happiness of my daughter is always my business.” Koland paused in the middle of the street. “While you are justified in some of your anger, you took things way too far.”
“Where am I wrong?” he challenged.
“You left no room whatsoever for Kekeen’s belief in the cause we serve.”
“I don’t believe in your cause. Or your leader.”
“That doesn’t matter.” Koland pointed at his chest. “She does. She has a belief, a hope, because that is part of who she is. And you forced her to choose between her beliefs and you. Even your ‘agreement’ left no room for compromise.”
Clanless walked past him. “Are we going to visit this blood repository or not?”
Koland resumed his pace. “If you love Kekeen, you have to love all of her, not just part of her. Her belief in the value of each individual is what led her to you,” he went on. “And it’s that belief that led her to commit to Daviland's campaign. It’s a part of who she is. If you manage to strip that away from her, she won’t even be the woman you love any more.”
“If you keep talking, I will reconsider this trip,” Clanless said. Koland fell silent.
The storyteller spoke the truth, of course. Yet for all his life, Clanless had endured pain. And since he’d been thrown into the arena, he’d been able to strike back against anyone who hurt him… most of the time. It had become instinct, he considered. In the arena, you either hurt them first or hurt them harder. With that as the constant backdrop of his life, he had reacted to Kekeen in the same way but with his words. He’d hurt her. He knew that. But she’d hurt him first.
“What happened to the kind man?” he muttered to himself.
“What was that?” Koland asked.
“Nothing.”
At that moment, someone ran up behind them. Clanless whirled, reaching for the knife in his belt. He relaxed when he saw Borde slow to a stop next to him. “I’m coming with you,” she announced.
“If you wish,” Koland said. “We only need Clanless here, but you’re welcome to walk with us.”
She fell into step with them and kept silent most of the way, much to Clanless’s relief.
Koland led the way into the upper city. Everywhere they walked, they saw people preparing for the celebration tomorrow… or getting an early start on the revelries. Merchants added extra decorations to their places of business, advertising their wares in sometimes-strained connections to the season. Larger homes—at least some of them—also sported new decor, usually stylized depictions of the moon capturing the sun or snow falling from the sky.
A stiff breeze already descended into the streets, ripping some of those decorations free and sending them tumbling along. The winds ordinarily wouldn’t start this early, but the chaos moon supposedly made this upcoming High Winter worse than normal.
The sun had long since retreated for the night, taking its warmth with it and abandoning the sky to the brightness of the moon. Clanless glanced up at it and wondered: if the goddess had answered Kekeen’s prayers to keep him alive, why was this happening now? Did a being like that truly care about individuals in this world? And how would she feel about what they were planning to do now?
Kekeen believed in the goddess. But she fought against the blood-priests. Clanless had a much tougher time separating the two, though he supposed he’d done more of that the past couple of years. “Blood is life. Blood is precious. Blood is power.” The mantra still fell from his lips after every fight and sometimes in the mornings when he awoke. But if the blood were so precious, what did that say about the Taint? His life seemed filled with contradictions.
Why was he doing this, anyway? He didn’t believe in Daviland's rebellion and didn’t think it would succeed, even with his help. He felt no obligation to Kekeen any more, not for this, at any rate. In one sense, he relished the opportunity to do something against the priesthood. And maybe it was as simple as being asked. Kekeen, Koland, and Borde all begged him to do it. And while he wouldn’t surrender his chances at freedom tomorrow for them, he could do this much.
“It’s not much further,” Koland said, interrupting his musings. Clanless glanced around. He recognized the area of the city. The palace and arena weren’t far from here. Pasque House was even closer. In fact, he’d walked through some of this with Hagh early in his time at Et-Baylak.
“The temple,” he said aloud, remembering. “Is that where we’re going?”
Koland nodded, visible in the moon’s light and the many lanterns that decorated this area. “It should have been obvious to us. The biggest temple in the biggest city, with the most powerful priests and their leaders present almost every day.”
The Ghamba Lam. Of course. At the thought, Clanless almost stopped in his tracks. The priest had predicted he’d be asked to use the Taint tonight. “A great task,” he called it. And he’d told Clanless to do it. He wanted the blood supply tainted! But why? Was he against the Hawk King somehow? Was it a trap? Clanless opened his mouth to tell Koland but stopped himself. He needed to think. What possible reasons could the Ghamba Lam have for telling him to do it? And how had he known?
He must have a spy within Daviland’s people. It would explain how Daviland had been captured. But if true, then the spy likely knew of Clanless’s own meeting with Daviland two years prior. No, that couldn’t be right. He’d have betrayed Daviland then, cutting him off before he grew too powerful.
How would the Ghamba Lam profit from the Tainting of the blood supply? It would limit the military response to Daviland’s uprising, throwing the city into chaos. The Hawk King might very well lose, especially if the priests were against him somehow.
But that made no sense. Daviland wanted to overthrow the priests too! The Ghamba Lam wouldn’t be participating in the destruction of his own order.
“Aldan,” Borde said in a tone so low he almost didn’t hear her. “Forgive me for earlier. I had no right to talk to you that way.”
He grunted in response, not trusting his words at this point. From the situation with Kekeen to the confusion over the Ghamba Lam, his emotions and thoughts were in a turmoil. Better to keep his lips sealed as much as possible.
The closer they drew to the temple, the more people they saw coming and going. “The blood donations are accelerating tonight,” Borde pointed out. “They won’t be taking more tomorrow, so they’ve encouraged everyone to come tonight.”
“It works to our advantage,” Koland said. “It’s easier to avoid notice in a crowd.”
Once they arrived, his words proved true. The three of them merged with the crowd ascending the stairs. Clanless stared at the crystal sphere at the top. Hagh had been right: the moon’s light infused it, creating an alternate moon, one that had descended from the heavens to bless those who came to this temple.
But at the top of the stairs, Koland peeled off to the right, splitting away from those entering the main doors. Borde and Clanless followed him around the narrow walkway as it turned along the side of the temple.
“Nothing to hide us here,” Clanless pointed out.
“But no one’s looking over here.” Koland continued along the narrow path. “They’re all focused on the front. If we went in that way, we’d draw unwanted attention to ourselves when we tried to go past the priests and their work. There aren’t any ways to slip past them inside.”
“But there are out here,” Borde said. Clanless couldn’t tell if she were stating or questioning.
“Down here.” Koland glanced around before sitting down on the edge of the walkway. He slipped down, hung by his hands for a brief moment, then dropped down into the dark. Clanless waited a moment, then followed. He caught Borde as she dropped, helping her avoid the harder landing. Then he looked about.
They stood in a side garden to the main temple. A path led through a lush array of trees, unusual both for the city and the general climate, to a statue of the goddess perched on the moon. A flame burned within the moon itself, shining out through dozens of holes on every side, providing an unusual sort of illumination to parts of the garden. Where they stood lay in darkness.
Koland ignored the garden and faced the wall of the temple, where the path ended. “There’s a door here,” he said, “but it’s not easy to find.”
Clanless pushed against the stone, but nothing moved.
“It has a hidden latch,” Koland explained, feeling along the wall.
“What if there’s a priest right behind the door when you open it?” Clanless asked.
“Then I’m afraid I’ll need you to remove him before he recognizes you.”
“I don’t kill outside the arena.”
“Render him unconscious. I don’t care. Ah, here it is.” Koland’s hands moved in the dark, followed by a click-thump sound. Clanless helped him push the stone again. This time, it moved inward easily, revealing a door and doorway much slighter than anticipated. No one met them; in fact, the passage ahead appeared as dark as the path behind.
“How did you discover all of this?” Borde whispered.
“Slow and careful infiltration of the priesthood,” Koland answered. “Now I suggest we keep quiet through the hallway. The priests should all be busy up top, but we can’t be sure.”
“I hope there’s light somewhere.”
“In the blood chamber, yes. Quietly now.”
Koland crept forward. Clanless gestured for Borde to follow, while he brought up the rear. They made their way down a short hall before it met a larger one. A dim and flickering light came from far to the left, but Koland turned right. A few feet later, they found steps descending into the darkness. Clanless assumed the priests must carry lanterns themselves, unless some blood-magic let them see in the dark. He’d started to believe almost any type of power might exist.
Descending stairs in the dark was a treacherous task, but they made it to the bottom without any major stumbles. Here, Koland had to search around for another latch. Once he found it, they swung open another door only to be blinded by a sudden eruption of light beyond it, a light strangely mixed with red. At the same moment, Clanless’s other senses were overwhelmed with the presence of blood. The smell filled his nostrils. The coppery taste exploded through his mouth. The other two didn’t react; they couldn’t sense it like he did.
Clanless blinked until his eyes adjusted. He stepped into an enormous chamber and stared in awe and a bit of fear around him. “Goddess,” Borde whispered.
The chamber stretched longer than the temple above it. While the front area resembled a massive man-made chamber in any palace or elaborate structure with carved panels decorating the walls, the back half of the chamber appeared to be a cave, hewn from the rock itself. Two smaller passages stretched away into darkness.
The light came from a dozen lanterns attached to the walls. But the enormous storage containers in front of them, six on each side of the chamber, reflected and amplified the light. The containers were formed of crystal, the same crystal used in the currency vials. They were shaped almost like drinking mugs, but with a spherical base that required supports to keep them upright. Blood filled the interior of most of them, some more than others. Clanless approached the nearest one, tilting his head back to see the top, at least twice his height. Wooden platforms surrounded each crystal, with stairs in each corner of the room.
“Shukan, Ghutalta, Kurav, Torov,” Koland said, pointing at each of the first four containers. “And so on. One for each clan.” He turned around. “Can you do it? Can you… Taint them?”
“I don’t know,” Clanless answered, staring. “I’ve never done this much before.” Except maybe during the fight against the barbarians. He had no idea how much he’d done then. He put his hand against the crystal. How much blood could this contain? Hundreds of gallons at the least; maybe even a thousand!
“The longer we are here, the longer we risk discovery,” Koland pointed out in a quiet voice.
Clanless nodded and climbed up the nearest set of stairs to the right. Borde followed, to his irritation. Her presence aroused… strange feelings. He would expect some kind of nostalgia, maybe a longing for what he’d lost, but it wasn’t that. He tried to analyze his feelings, though it took some thought. He felt edgy, as if he expected a threat to appear at any moment, and not because of their location. It made no sense.
Koland moved to the doorway they’d entered and kept a watch on the stairs.
From the platforms, Clanless saw that the crystal containers were sealed on top. Of course they would be; otherwise, the blood would decay. The crystal somehow kept the blood fresh within. Kekeen said something once about the value of the crystals. Did they provide the true magic, and the blood only transmitted it? The priesthood kept so many secrets.
“How does this work?” Borde asked. “Do you just… snap your fingers or something?”
“The blood needs to be exposed to the air.” In all the times he’d used the Taint, that seemed to be the deciding factor.
They both stepped closer to the nearest container, the one Koland had labeled Shukan, the Hawk King’s clan. Borde pointed to a metal handle that appeared grafted into the crystal. Clanless grasped it and turned. A type of crystal lid, about a foot across, screwed out of the container.
“This must be where they pour it in,” Borde observed.
Clanless set aside the lid. The sensations of the blood washed over him, making him take a step backward. The taste and smell would not have been more overwhelming if someone had poured a bucket down his throat. He choked and coughed, bending over double.
“Are you all right?” Borde reached a hand out toward him.
He waved her away. “Give me a moment,” he managed. He sounded like Hagh. His eyes watered, and his gorge rose. He fought back against the sensations. If he could handle eight years in the arena, he could handle this. He swallowed, gritted his teeth, and straightened up.
He stepped back and held out his hand over the container’s opening. With a thought, he activated the Taint. The heat behind his eyes exploded, stronger than he’d ever felt it. Borde gasped and stepped back, staring at his face. Flames erupted out of the container, searing his palm. He leaped back, almost falling from the platform and letting out a short cry of pain.
Idiot. When he used the Taint on a small amount of blood, he saw a spark or two. Whatever the Taint was, it involved burning of some kind, burning away some part of the blood itself. With this much blood, that burning became a much more violent thing. He examined the skin on his palm. Three or four blisters were already forming. The pain he could bear, but he’d have to wear a glove tomorrow to wield the moonblade. He couldn’t very well go to the healers and ask for help. They’d want to know what happened.
“Did it work?” Koland called from nearby. He’d come halfway up the stairs. “What happened?”
“I think so,” Borde said. “Was it supposed to do that?”
“It’s fine,” Clanless answered. “Open the next one.”
This time, he stood well back from the opening when using the Taint. While he avoided the flames, the second usage drained him more than he expected. As the heat from his eyes faded, his entire head grew fuzzy. The rest of his body didn’t feel much better. When Borde moved to the third container, he held up a hand. “I need a minute.”
“We don’t know how much time we have,” she protested.
“I need a minute,” he repeated. He glanced back where they’d come. “Put the lids back on. I don’t want them discovering the bad blood until much later.” For that matter, once the sabotage was discovered, wouldn’t they immediately suspect him? Who else could do this to their blood? He growled to himself for not thinking of that sooner. Too late now.
After a few moments’ rest, they moved on to the third container. After Tainting it, Clanless could barely remain on his feet. He leaned both hands on his knees, taking deep breaths. This made no sense. He’d used the Taint more than this before. Borde again reached out, this time putting a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off, straightened up, and moved to the fourth container. “Open it,” he ordered, his voice ragged.
Koland left his watch position and joined them on the platform. “Aldan, don’t overdo it.”
“Time,” he grumbled.
“Yes, we don’t have much time, but it won’t do us any good if you collapse, and we can’t get you out of here.”
“One more, and then I’ll rest.” That would be a third of the blood, at least.
Borde unscrewed the fourth container and stepped back. Clanless lifted himself up, reached out, and activated the Taint. The force of it erupting out of him, burning his eyes, threw him back this time. He hit the wall and fell onto the platform. He rolled on to his back, gasping. His consciousness swam through murky waters.
