Age of Valor: Blood Purge Read online

  “Oh, Lynnie...” They wrapped their arms around each other, their heartache similar enough that they both understood the broken feeling within. Kenayde had yet to conceive, even five years after her wedding to Elas. There had been several times when she, like Ashlynn, thought she might have been pregnant, only to discover days later that she was not. So much false hope had turned into anxiety and anger. Kenayde understood better than anyone, even Jaryn, what Ashlynn was feeling. Though she had always been easier to bring to tears than her older sister, this time when she cried, it was for both of them. “You were so certain.”

  “Certain as I always am,” Ashlynn lamented. “Maybe it's some sort of generational curse. Our birth mother died having you, Mama and Papa could never get pregnant. Maybe it's just not meant to be.”

  “It is meant to be,” promised Kenayde. “For both of us. I know it.” She gave Jaryn a watery smile over Ashlynn's shoulder. “I know it.”

  “Thank you, Pickle.”

  In the valley below, someone began beating on a drum. It was a heavy, tribal beat that reverberated over the ground on which they stood. It was sporadic, a summoning to let everyone know that a show was going to begin. Somewhere nearby, a man cried out like a wolf howling at the moon. It drew a similar response from someone far down in the valley, and succeeded in bringing a quiet laugh to Ashlynn's lips. “It must be that time again.”

  “Must be.” Kenayde unwound herself from Ashlynn and dried her sister's tears with her thumbs. Nodding in encouragement, she asked, “All right?”

  Ashlynn mirrored the nod and echoed, “All right.”

  A crowd was already gathering at the largest stage in the village. Several people, five men and one woman, moved about the stage preparing themselves for the show they were about to put on. One of the men was covered in tattoos and had to be careful not to get his long hair stuck in the belt that went around his waist as he fastened a bass drum to his front. As soon as he was comfortable with the position, he beat out a rhythm that started out quiet and got progressively louder.

  “Come on,” cried Lilia, hand in hand with Rowan as they rushed past the three standing on the hill. “It's about to begin!”

  The drone of the bagpipes rang out clear and crisp as another member of the kilted band tucked the instrument under his arm. He sucked in a deep breath before blowing into the blowstick several times to fill the bag with air, making the droning noise louder.

  “Mama!” Lochlainn appeared from nowhere and tugged on Ashlynn's skirt. “I want to see the didgeridoo!”

  Jaryn scooped him up and put him on his shoulders. “Well let's go then! We don't want to miss it!”

  Kenayde slipped her hand into Ashlynn's and nodded down the hill. “Shall we?”

  It wasn't long before the main drummer in the middle had begun beating out a rhythm on the double set of drums before him. The woman, like the man with the long hair, had a drum strapped to her as well, but she was pounding away with hollowed out gourds with small stones inside them for a unique sound. A tall, skinny man with tattoos was jumping around the stage, dancing from foot to foot with high energy as he played a tambourine. Lastly, the smallest of the men played a long didgeridoo that looked like it might have been taller than he was.

  It was impossible to stand still as they played, their energy was that infectious. It felt like every hard hit of the bass drums matched the pounding of Ashlynn's heart. The crowd moved as one body around her and she closed her eyes, letting every thought and feeling be lost to the beat and the loud, high sound of the bagpipes. The notes changed so rapidly that the piper's fingers had to have been flying over the chanter, but it sounded beautiful to her. She let go of Kenayde's hand and wove her fingers into her skirts, swaying back and forth as the music took hold of her.

  Each song was wild and fast, keeping not only the gathered crowd active, but the band as well. They were sweaty, but they gave no less than everything they had as they played. When it was time for a break, all but one of the men, the man with the long hair, cleared off to give themselves a chance to cool down and left the lone woman on stage to sing a song by herself. The man picked up the abandoned sticks for the main set of drums and began a slow beat for the woman to sing to. Her voice was a strong alto, breathy and yet still commanding. She sang from the perspective of the Celts of the past to those living now, both the tune and the lyrics ringing out across the valley in a haunting melody. It sent shivers over Ashlynn's skin, raising goose flesh on her arms despite the leftover warmth of the day. For the duration of the song, it was as if everyone listening had fallen under a spell. When the last pound of the drum came and the singing stopped, everyone within earshot cheered and clapped, drawing the rest of the group back on stage to finish the lively show.

  “I want to play the drums like that,” Tiyal said once the performance was over and the crowd was breaking up. It was late enough for the children to be put to bed, but after such a rowdy show, their parents knew sleep would not come easily and decided to let them stay up just a bit longer.

  “Which one was your favorite?” Luella asked, her son's hand tucked into her own as they all walked back to their fire pit.

  “I liked the one with the long hair...the man with the tattoos...I liked his drum the most. I liked how he was jumping everywhere and still playing.”

  “Like the one playing the bodhran and the tambourine?” asked Lucien, dancing all around everyone as they walked, pretending to play one of the instruments as he went. He held his hand up as though there was a bodhran in his grip, while his other twisted back and forth, thumb and pinkie out like a beater.

  Lochlainn, walking in between Jaryn and Ashlynn, looked up at his parents with a pout. “Is the music all over?”

  “For tonight,” Ashlynn told her son. “There will be more tomorrow and for the rest of the week.”

  Vala, walking behind them with Ashlynn's other three ladies, asked, “Does it have to be over?” Her big eyes turned to Jaryn as he glanced over his shoulder at her. “I have heard you play many an instrument at the castle, Your Majesty. Would you not favor us with a song or two?”

  A smirk worked its way onto Ashlynn's lips and she looked sideways at her husband. It was a rare occasion indeed that Jaryn didn't acquiesce to an entreaty for him to play music of any kind. When the request came from a pretty girl, well, she knew it would only be a matter of time before music filled the air once more.

  Jaryn pretended to hesitate and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I don't know where I'd find an instrument to play.”

  “Please,” Lilia muttered with humor. “We all know you brought your lute, just as Kenayde brought her harp.”

  “I like it very little to play someone else's,” Kenayde commented, her chin lifting a hint.

  “Shall I get them?” asked Vala, her high voice eager.

  Jaryn gave Kenayde a conspiratorial look, a brow raised. “I'll wind them up, you calm them down?”

  She sighed, but there was laughter underneath. “Oh, all right.”

  Before long, everyone had settled back around the fire to listen to Jaryn play. He started off with a song that was tame enough and had no lyrics. As soon as it was finished, he smiled in mischief and began a much faster song. Where he had been sitting and playing just a moment ago, he stood and wandered around the circle. His fingers moved deftly over the strings and he sang lyrics that weren't all together appropriate for the children, but no one seemed to mind. Laughter was heavy in the air, and when Badru appeared with a drum of his own to play with the palms of his hands, quite a few of them clapped along.

  Just as predicted, Jaryn entertained with faster and more bawdy songs, drawing in people from all across the hillside. Soon enough, what had been only their small group had turned into its own party, filled with unfamiliar faces and ale that seemed to never run out. Somewhere along the line, a flutist joined in, dancing around in a swirling skirt like a little pixie. Bagpipes entered the mix at one point, and people too drunk for their ow
n good got to their feet to dance as well.

  By the time Lochlainn was tucked away into bed, the only music that could be heard by their private manor was the sound of Kenayde's harp. Feeling drained, Ashlynn sank into a chair by an open window to listen to the sound, comforted by it. She was tired enough to sleep but also dreaded the quiet the night would bring. Her heart, though temporarily distracted, was still broken over the realization that she was not pregnant. She and Jaryn had been trying for so long that it was hard not to wonder if something was wrong with them...more specifically, with her.

  “There is a quarterstaff competition I think Lochlainn wants to see in the morning,” Jaryn reported quietly as he came into the main room of the manor. “I know the first hurling game is in the morning as well, but...” He paused, his head tilting. “Are you all right, love?”

  “Just tired.” She rested her head against the back of the chair and breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the cool night air that drifted into the room. “I don't know which takes more out of me: these days filled with games and competitions or the ones filled with meetings and arguments.”

  “They're both draining,” Jaryn allowed. He sat in a chair across from hers and leaned forward to take her hands in his own. His beard and mustache tickled her skin in a familiar way as he pressed her hands to his lips. “Tonight was fun, though.”

  Ashlynn gave him half a smile. “It was. I haven't seen you that carefree in a very long time.” She leaned forward, tugging him closer to kiss his lips. “That did my soul good to see.”

  “It did mine good as well.” Brushing her hair behind her ear, his usual smile was more of a grimace. “I don't like seeing you so sad. Is there anything I can do?”

  “Is there ever?” She looked down with a shake of her head. “I'll be fine.”

  “Come to bed with me. Let me hold you awhile.”

  A knock came to the door and Jaryn's head fell forward with an exasperated sigh.

  “Really?” he muttered. “Have we not been social enough as it is these past nine, ten days?”

  Ashlynn couldn't help the small laugh she gave as she rose, running a hand under Jaryn's chin with affection. “Yes?”

  The door opened and one of their guards stepped into the room. “Cailin and Killian wish to speak with you.”

  “Send them in.”

  Jaryn got to his feet, grunting like a man twice his age. “This had better be worth the interruption.”

  “Sorry for the late hour,” said Cailin as she passed the guard. “We'll try not to keep you too long.” She waited as Killian drew up beside her, watching for the guard to close the door and leave the four of them alone. “If we could have given you our report sooner, we would have, but there were certain elements at play that kept us from you.”

  Ashlynn looked from one to the other, narrowing an eye. “You two were conspicuously absent from the festivities tonight. Where were you?”

  Cailin and Killian looked at one another. A silent conversation passed between them before Cailin nodded and crossed her hands before her. “There was talk,” said Killian, “among those engaged in the melee today. Just before, when we were all gathering in preparation, I overheard a quiet conversation between two men, a Sinessian and a Cierian. Apparently since we have been here, five more dragons were killed in Siness alone, and one Gael, a young woman.”

  Jaryn looked between them. “Is there any confirmation to this?”

  Cailin nodded. “To the dragon slayings, yes. Killian discovered a merchant here who used to trade with a jeweler who made things from dragon scales. While this isn't illegal, it is a practice which has come under some scrutiny in the past years. Dragon scales lose their luster over time and are dull when compared to the scales still on a dragon.”

  “It is much the same as cut flowers,” Killian explained. “Once severed from its source of life, it slowly withers. Given enough time, dragon scales will turn to dust just as bones do. Because it takes so long for the decomposition process, dragon scale jewelry has been popular for many generations. Only today, this merchant was approached by someone in the hope of making a covert deal. He was offered new jewelry to sell. He recognized it as dragon scale right away, but was surprised at the depth of color and luster. When he asked about the pieces and how they were still so vibrant, the trader told him the scales were harvested from fresh Sinessian kills.”

  Ashlynn put a hand to her stomach, the contents within churning. “Harvested...as though they were nothing but stalks of wheat.”

  Crossing his arms, Jaryn asked, “What made this merchant decide to confide in you.”

  “He's a Gael,” Cailin supplied.

  Killian absently rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. “As far as the girl goes, we are still awaiting news from our sources back home.” “There have been others,” Cailin continued grimly. “It almost seems as though there is an underground competition going among the countries to see which one has the highest tally for dragon and Gael deaths, with a ranking system for how violent or how public they are.”

  “That is disgusting,” Ashlynn moaned.

  Lifting her left hand, Cailin traced the tattoo on the underside of her wrist, following the triple loop knot and heart that had been there since her late teens. “This mark, the mark of the Keeper, may yet be utilized again. Hunters are not the only ones who can operate in secrecy.”

  Killian glanced at his own identical mark. “Though it has been many years since we have been active, the purpose of the Keeper is to protect those that need protecting. I have put my life on the line for the drags and their Gaelic kindred before, I will certainly do it again.”

  “You do,” Jaryn reminded with a purposeful look to his wife, “every day. Both you and Cailin do.”

  “There have been lynchings in Ibays,” Killian added. “I spoke with one of the guards from Lerranyth and she said it happened when it was announced that there would be competitions especially for Gaels and dragon riders. Fionn was quick to keep the event as quiet as possible, paying off any that would spread news of the incident.”

  Cailin ran a hand over her head, pushing stray wisps of brown hair from her face. “More and more Gaels are going into hiding. Some people who have housed them or who have taken up the cause of fighting for dragon rights have been dragged out into the streets and killed. It's becoming an epidemic.” She looked first to Jaryn and then to Ashlynn, a wrinkle between her brows. “Wasn't any of this discussed during the summit? Have agreements been reached or consequences been determined?”

  “We tried,” Jaryn grumbled. “Tasarin and Luella tried. Cavalon and Nuala tried. The thing is, there are a great many more lesser kingdoms than there are higher, and when they get together, their voices are much louder than ours. Each time the subject was raised it was summarily shut down and changed.”

  “We have to do something,” Ashlynn insisted. “We can't just sit idly by as this genocide becomes more and more commonplace.”

  Jaryn scratched his chin in thought, and no one said anything for a moment. When it seemed he had an idea, he looked hesitant. “We can make an announcement tomorrow morning before any of the games begin. In this forum, we will not be silenced. All of us, Fionn and Alanna included, should be in the grandstand together to show a united front. We could address it then; no ladies, no squires or servants, just the high rulers that are here.”

  Ashlynn nodded in agreement. “We will need to discuss it with Tasarin and Luella since this is their country.”

  “Let's do it, then.”

  She turned to Cailin. “Would you please?” The older woman nodded and left the room to go fetch the royal couple. “If they agree,” Ashlynn said once the door was closed, “we will tell the others. They need not be ambushed with this idea only moments before it is to happen, especially Fionn. I know very little about him, but I can tell he is not a man who likes surprises.”

  “You are not wrong in that,” Killian confirmed. “I have no doubt that he will stand with you if you
tell him of your plans tonight, but if it is sprung on him in the morning, he is likely to revolt simply due to being taken off guard.” He looked down, troubled. “Though it has been nearly five years, the loss of Mirasean, the fact that it was dragons who were responsible for it is still a fresh wound and many are ready to be done with dragons all together. It will be well that High King Tasarin be the strongest voice among the supporters of the Gaels and dragons.”

  “An elf of great power who is also married to a Gael.” Jaryn grimaced. “Who knew their union would be so important?”

  There was little convincing that needed to happen in order to get Tasarin and Luella to agree to the announcement. They had been conferring with their own people and had been hearing similar stories to the ones in Siness. It seemed too many were taking great liberties with their high rulers gone, thinking they could get away with much more than usual. There wasn't a day in the weeks leading up to the summit and the games that Ashlynn hadn't battled nervousness and even moments of downright terror. If someone or a group of someones decided to send a message, what better place to do so than in a village where most of the nations' high rulers and their families would be for two weeks? She felt like she woke up holding her breath most days, and didn't realize it until sleep was imminent. The tension in her mind and body lessened a fraction with each new morning that showed nothing had happened, but this news was bringing it all back again.

  “You need some tea,” Luella advised, seeing Ashlynn working herself up in silence. “I will have some sent up for you on my way back to my rooms.”

  The younger woman nodded in agreement. “Thank you, that would be lovely. Have them brew some of my own tea. I have a special blend that I brought with me that helps when I feel anxious.”