Tainted Blood Anthology Read online

  To think, while these privileged narcissists stuffed their faces and drank more than their fill, only a few floors down, prisoners were being kept in filth, sleeping in rooms with their own feces. He watched as empty goblets waved in the air, many of the rich folk snapping their fingers at serving girls who were taking too long.

  “Liam! Come sit, my good man,” came a familiar call from the head of the table. Lord Alaric waved him over with one hand, the other resting on the leg of the young lady to his right. Visibly uncomfortable, she tugged at her climbing skirt while gently attempting to remove his roaming hand.

  Liam rounded the side of the table, taking the empty seat to Alaric’s left. He sank down into the comfortable chair and immediately focused his attention on the fidgeting women. “My dear,” he said, voice deep and reassuring. “A thousand apologies, but I fear I must steal a moment of Lord Alaric’s time from you.” He flashed her a knowing wink. Relieved, she returned a subtle nod of thanks. “Do not waste your beauty here as two old fools speak of politics and business.”

  Accepting her offered hand, he kissed it gently, making her swoon. Old perhaps, but Liam possessed a rare charm he often used to his advantage. She rose from her chair and backed away, all the while seeming to have great difficulty tearing her gaze away from him.

  Clearly frustrated, Alaric watched her go. “I called you over to have a drink with me, not to chase away my women,” he slurred, fumbling around the table for his goblet. With short, curly brown hair and large hazel eyes, Lord Alaric was a handsome man. Slight of build with a long, thin nose, his bed was rarely empty at night. “Well, let’s at least have that drink.”

  When he raised the goblet to his lips, Liam pressed his wrist, lowering it back to the table. “I spoke no lie when I said we have business to discuss,” he said. “I would prefer it if you could do that sober.”

  “Bah,” Alaric barked, his sleepy-eyed gaze taking in the scenery. “Why must you bother me with such things? Look around you,” he mumbled, swaying in his chair as his pointing finger swept around the room. “This is time for drink...and dance...and food.”

  When he moved for his goblet a second time, Liam pinned his hand to the table with a hard thud. “If I were to wait before speaking on important matters until you weren’t drinking or celebrating your own existence, nothing would ever get done!” he growled, sitting up straight in his chair. “We must discuss the fate of General Coleth, a loyal man who has served you many years. Do you actually believe he’s betrayed the city?” Alaric glared silently, his eyelids heavy with drink. “It seems I do not take the fate of innocent lives as lightly as you,” Liam finished, suddenly wishing he had accepted a bit of wine. It would certainly help calm him.

  “Come with me,” said Alaric calmly. Rising up on unsteady legs, he headed for the double doors. Liam looked around to see several gazes fixed on him. It was only at that moment he realized he must have been speaking rather loudly. Suspecting that he may have overstepped his authority, Liam got up to follow. Nosy guests whispered, some even pointing as he went.

  When he met Alaric in the hall, he started to apologize but never got a word out. Alaric turned on the tall man, one hand on Liam’s chest, the other tucked inside his own coat. Liam knew he always kept a dagger hidden inside that inner lining. He watched as the drunken man fingered something, the fabric of his coat moving in small waves.

  “Don’t you ever...challenge my authority...in front of others,” Alaric hissed, each word soft and dangerous.

  Unblinking, Liam met his glare. “If you would govern the city once in a while instead of throwing these ridiculous parties every night, maybe I wouldn’t have to,” Liam replied, his voice deep yet nonthreatening. “Forgive me, sir, but you left me no choice.”

  With a nod, Alaric backed away. “Very well then,” he said, stumbling ever so slightly. “You have my ear. Now, what about the general?” He turned away and the two began walking down the hall.

  “As I was trying to say, you cannot execute this man as a traitor,” Liam began. “For years, he has served this city with unwavering loyalty. Those men were attacked. By what exactly, I cannot be sure at this time. He watched his soldiers die right before his eyes. The fact that he was spared is nothing more than a message; a warning to us.” Liam shook his head. “Whatever horrors he witnessed that day have clearly broken his mind. He is but a shell of the man we once knew.”

  Liam rounded on Alaric, stopping them both in their tracks. “But none of that proves he is part of some conspiracy to overthrow the city, as you seem to believe,” he stated. “If so, why would he return here? Do you believe his fragile mental state is but an act? Do not mistake me, you do have enemies that we must be leery of,” he added, trying to pass some credit back to Alaric. It was imperative that he stay neutral and present only the facts. “Your suspicions of an enemy alliance working to weaken us from within are not without merit, but in this case, I’m afraid it is implausible at best. I say to you now, the general is innocent of any wrongdoing, and I beg you to reconsider your position on the matter.”

  Alaric tapped his chin, considering. “I want you to do something for me,” he said at length. “I need you to test the white powder we found on his clothing. Finding its origin might go a long way in helping to piece together this puzzle.”

  Relieved, Liam nodded. It seemed as if Alaric was at least willing to listen to other options. “Very well,” he replied, eager to go get started. The sooner he could bring Alaric some answers, the sooner he could pardon his old friend.

  “Oh, and one more thing,” Alaric added just as they were parting ways. “I want you to question the girl as well.”

  “The girl?” Liam replied innocently.

  “Yes, the thief the whole city’s been buzzing about. I know you’ve already spoken to her,” Alaric added slyly. He prided himself on knowing everything that went on inside his keep. What’s more, he loved reminding his subordinates that they were always being watched. “She may be tied to this. Figure out what that ‘creature’ is and where it came from.” Satisfied, Alaric stalked away.

  *

  Beakers bubbled just above controlled flames. Many were connected to each other through clear tubes that sipped liquids from one beaker to the next. Others sat in wire holders, a constant stream of smoky mist sifting up from their tops. Liam’s lab was nothing fancy, but it contained everything he needed to conduct his experiments. He relished working here alone. It provided him with some much-needed relief from his day-to-day duties.

  Using a scalpel, Liam scraped a small portion of the white powder into a glass tube, then added a small amount of blue liquid. It fizzed briefly before settling, the liquid changing into a dirty green color. He rubbed his chin, considering the possibilities of his first attempt. There was no doubt the powder was indeed some kind of ash. But it was not pure. Tiny, sand-like granules collected at the bottom of the tube.

  He strained the contents into a second glass container, filtering out the gritty particles through a tiny screen. He set up several more containers, each with liquids of different properties and colors. It was going to be a long night, but he was determined to get some answers before daybreak.

  *

  After working feverishly through the night, Liam had managed to break down all the components found in the foreign substance. The majority consisted of regular ash from burned wood, but he also found traces of volcanic glass. More importantly, the volcanic grains showed trace amounts of microlite, a rare mineral found only in the far-west regions of Ayrith.

  Well, that’s it, then. Someone or something transported that ash over a long distance, and it most certainly wasn’t Hyndrid. It seems I’ve cleared him of any involvement.

  There were no windows here, but a sickly looking candle burned down to its base gave him some indication of the time. No doubt it was morning, and probably high time he reported his findings before getting some rest. On second thought, his report could wait until later. Better to go speak with that
peculiar girl while it was on his mind.

  Stifling a yawn as he snatched his bag, he set out from his lab and hurried towards the prisoner-detainment area below. After passing the first two guards at the bottom of the steps, he approached the giant cell door where she was being held. The second pair of guards sidestepped the door, allowing him access.

  He knocked as a courtesy, then slid open the eye slit. There she was, lying on a coarse bed of dry straw, her shoulders rising and falling with the peaceful rhythm of deep sleep. He cleared his throat. She rolled slightly, lips smacking with dryness. Her eyes fluttered a bit before jetting open with alarm. She sat up with a jerk, the memories of where she was and what had happened all flooding back in a rush.

  “Good morning to you,” said Liam, watching curiously. “Did you sleep well, dear?” Her eyes flickered towards him briefly, before looking away. She backed all the way into the corner, then hugged her knees to her chest, face hidden behind them.

  Liam cleared his throat a second time. “Let me explain to you how this works,” he said. “You have been charged with a crime. Yes? It is my job to decide whether or not you are guilty of that crime. I personally have the ear of Lord Alaric Bournfred. Sooner or later he will seek my counsel on the matter, and your fate shall be decided.”

  She said nothing, her emotionless gaze peeking over the top of her knees. “I have been doing this a long time,” he added when she didn’t reply. “And in that time I have known one thing to always be true: Those who refuse to speak to me are deemed guilty by silent admission, then executed.” This time her eyes rose to meet his. “No exception,” he added, realizing he now had her full attention. “Do you believe you are special, and that somehow your fate will be different?” Slowly, she shook her head back and forth. “Then let us begin where we left off yesterday. What is your name, dear?”

  “Viola,” she said in a whisper. Her soft voice was barely more than a rush of air.

  “Viola,” he repeated. “Viola, do you mind if I join you in there so we may speak face to face?” Immediately, the guards began to protest. Surely she was too dangerous to be left alone with him. Silencing them with a raised hand, he returned his attention back to her. “Viola, that was not a demand but a request. You are free to say no. I will not force you to do something against your will. But understand, your refusal to any of my requests will have a consequence.”

  Liam had been doing this a long time. Part of the mystic’s job had always been to question the prisoners. Through light magic when needed, along with his own considerable intuition, he could always tell the difference between those who had made a poor choice, and those who were truly vile. He knew the innocent from the guilty, and always presented a fair case to Lord Alaric Bournfred. His rare ability to judge one’s character was renowned.

  Over the years he had learned that giving the prisoners as much freedom as possible reaped a certain amount of benefit. By providing them the freedom of choice, they felt as if they’d gained back a measure of respect. He would find the truth one way or another, but there was no reason to strip the prisoners of their dignity in the process.

  With a subtle nod of her head, she agreed to his terms. She watched as the eye slit snapped shut, then heard the chinks and clanks of bolts and locks being undone. Already pressed into the corner, she pushed back further, as if trying to bury herself directly into the bricks. Hugging her knees to her chest, fear gripped her. What if this was all a trick to make her lower her guard? What if they were going to just kill her here and now?

  The door creaked outward, and in walked the tallest man she’d ever seen. Back straight as a board, his light blue eyes measured her up and down. His pointed eyebrows gave him a sinister look, but his posture was nonthreatening. Liam set his bag down on the floor, and a lantern next to it. The door closed behind him with a heavy slam.

  “Are you not afraid of me?” she spoke first.

  “Should I be?” he asked, voice deep and commanding. “Is your kind dangerous?”

  “No,” she replied softly, face still mostly hidden behind her knees. “I-I don’t think so. But everyone else seems to be afraid of me.”

  Liam raised an eyebrow, curious. He specialized in reading one’s eyes, being able to see the truth no matter how hard the subject tried to hide it. It was clear she was telling the truth. She really wasn’t sure if she was dangerous or not. “I’ve never seen a being of your likeness,” he stated, hardly able to stop staring at her strange features. “As far as I can tell, you are completely unique to these lands. Tell me, Viola. What race are you?”

  A long while passed, her dark red eyes shifting from one wall to the next as if the answer were written somewhere. “I don’t know,” she admitted at length, moisture pooling in her eyes. “I just want to go home.”

  A thousand questions flooded Liam’s mind at once. How could she not know? Where did she come from, and how had her race remained hidden for so long? But there would be time enough to gather answers to these questions. After all, his desire to understand the world and all living things in it was an insatiable hunger, one he couldn’t satisfy in a hundred lifetimes.

  But he had a job to do first.

  “Viola, you have been charged with theft. Now answer me truthfully. Did you indeed steal that man’s coin?” Slowly, she nodded her head yes. Liam sighed at her admission of guilt. Theft, no matter how petty, was taken very seriously. Liam knew his thoughts were greedy, but he just couldn’t let her hang over such a minor charge. Not this rare specimen! She must be studied...and tested...and—

  “But it wasn’t for me,” she blurted out. Realizing his mind had drifted, he returned his attention to her. “It was for Ethan. He makes me steal for him.”

  “Is that the man in the other cell?” Liam asked. She nodded. “Well then, I shall speak with him as well,” he said, fumbling around in his bag. “But I’m afraid I must do something first.” He pulled out a syringe with an empty chamber. Her eyes seemed to double in size, her face rising over her knees. It was as if she believed it was some sort of treat. “I must take a blood sample from you.”

  Looking a bit confused, she didn’t resist when he extended her arm. Lips smacking, mouth watering, she watched curiously as the needle pricked her. Her skin was so very pale, and the veins he could see beneath the surface looked almost black. Drawing back on the plunger, the chamber began to fill. Her blood was red like any other being’s, but surprisingly thin and watery, as if diluted somehow.

  “There,” he said, removing the plunger and capping off the vial. He held it up, swirling the vial in circles. “We are not done talking,” he reminded her. “I’ll be back after I speak with your friend, and possibly run a test or two on this sample.” He hadn’t slept all night, but there was just too much to do to be bothered by rest.

  “He is not my friend!” she hissed, an eerie sound that seemed to carry around the room as if several people had spoken at once. He jumped at the odd, echoing effect of her voice. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought there were five of her in here.

  He took note of her obvious dislike for this…Ethan. “Very well,” he said, zipping up his pack and picking up the lantern. Arms full, he rapped on the door with his feet. It opened a moment later and he went back into the main prison chamber. He turned to one of the guards as the door was closed, and motioned with his chin. “Be sure she is well cared for. I have a special interest in that one—”

  He froze, stopping in midsentence. “Where are the other two?” he demanded, realizing for the first time that the other two cells were empty. With all his focus on the girl, he hadn’t even noticed when he came down here the first time. The guard flushed, his eyes rolling towards the steps. That was all Liam needed to see. Damn you, Alaric! I’ve been played for a fool!

  He streaked up the steps and down the hall, racing past his lab only to throw his bag inside. Slamming the door shut, he sped on towards the keep’s entrance. Even a hundred feet from the doorway, he could already hear the co
mmotion going on outside. That mix of shouts and jeers could only mean one thing. “Damn you,” he muttered out loud before bursting through the doors and out into the street.

  There, right in the middle of the street, was a makeshift gallows on wheels, its first victim already hung. He was masked, both his hands and feet tied. Liam was already sure it was Ethan. The large body rocked back and forth, the rope creaking against his stretched neck. Surprisingly, the people were paying little attention to the gallows. With the execution already concluded, their interest had been drawn elsewhere. If that’s Ethan... No!

  Liam pushed through the tightly packed crowd, urging them to make way. Bloodcurdling screams could be heard in the distance, urging him to move faster. “Move! Get out of my way,” he pleaded, nearly trampling folks as he shouldered his way through. The shrieks reached a high-pitched crescendo in an earsplitting note fit to shatter glass. It was the most primal reaction to pain Liam had ever heard, making his heart sink and his chest quiver.

  Being taller than most, he could clearly see four horses in the street up ahead. With ropes tied to metal bars at their backs, they stamped and snorted, each pulling in a different direction. Finally, Liam broke through the crowd, more than one angry person protesting as they tumbled aside. He froze, his heart nearly sinking to his feet. Nothing could have prepared him for this haunting image.

  With ropes braced to each leg and arm, the general’s body was stretched out. He wailed as the horses nudged in opposite directions, spurred on by a man wearing a black mask. One of the general’s arms was clearly dislocated at the shoulder, rendering it several inches longer that the other. Skin and tendon were the only things keeping it attached.

  Liam watched in horror as three more men rounded the tugging horses, each holding a black strap. Hyndrid’s head rose from its hanging position. Clinging to consciousness, his bloodshot eyes scanned the circle of people until they found Liam. For a fleeting moment the world stood still as the two old friends shared a silent moment. Displaying bloodstained teeth, the general managed a small smile. It appeared as if he might have found peace in his final moments.