Where Serpents Strike (Children of the Falls Vol. 1) (52 page)

The nervous fluttering in Dana’s chest had
grown into a pounding rage. She struggled to keep her attitude in
check when she said, “Don’t leave me here.”

“Dana—”

“No. I mean it. Khalous, my brothers are all
I have left. You can’t—”

“Be quiet and listen to me,” he snapped.

She saw that there would be no arguing with
him. His mind was set, and she had no say in the matter. Tears
formed at the corners of her eyes. She felt like she was being
abandoned all over again and it infuriated her.

“My friend in Thalmia has ties to an elite
brotherhood of warriors through whom I can continue your training.”
He gestured to the monastery grounds around them. “I can’t do that
here.” He stepped toward her and placed his hands on her shoulders.
“I will come back for you.”

She sniffled. “Take me with you.”

“When it’s safe.”

She shook her head. “No. Don’t leave me
here.”

Khalous smiled and shook his head. “You’ve
got your father’s pigheadedness, you know? All of you do.”

“I don’t care if it’s dangerous. Give me a
bow. I can help.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, and you
know it.”

“No. I don’t. What?”

“It’s different for a woman,” Khalous said.
“I’m sorry, but it’s not like it is for Brayden and Broderick. If
black vipers catch them they will kill them. If they catch you,
you’ll be treated like a prize, a spoil of war, and you’ll be
passed from tent to tent and tormented and abused and…” His eyes
clamped shut, and Dana saw the glistening of a tear slid down his
cheek into his beard. “I held you all in my hands when you were
born.” He lifted his thick, cracked palm. “You used to fit right
here, you and Lia, Brynlee and Scarlett. The daughters I never
had.” He sniffled. “But regardless of what you mean to me, you mean
even more to Edhen. Your brothers have the hearts of warriors. They
will fight and die for Edhen. But you have a much greater
purpose.”

Dana’s eyes were a watery mess now. “What is
that?” she managed to say.

Khalous smiled. “You will lead it.” He put
his arms around her.

She resisted at first, but slowly her arms
found their way around his waist. She had never thought of Khalous
as a father figure until now, and it touched her heart that he
considered her to be a daughter. She cried into his chest, hating
him for his decision, but understanding it nonetheless.

“But you’ll come back, right?” she asked.
“You won’t forget about me here?”

“No, my lady. I will come back for you. That
much I swear.”

Dana set her hand over Brayden’s chest and
taped her fingers three times. Tap… tap, tap.

The familiar gesture was old, something he
hadn’t felt in a long time. It broke his heart to feel it
again.

“Do you remember when she used to do
that?”

“Scarlett? Yeah.”

“I miss her, Brayden. Lia and Brynlee, too,
but Scarlett she…” Dana stumbled on her words. “She was so gentle
and young and so undeserving of all of this.”

Brayden hugged her.

He felt her fingers tap his chest again—tap…
tap, tap. Scarlett was barely three years old when she had started
doing that. It took his family a long time to figure out what it
meant.

“I love you, too, sis,” Brayden said. “We
should return in a few months. It will be winter soon, so keep
warm.”

“You better come back,” she said, her voice
muffled against his cloak.

“I will.”

She pulled away and looked at him. “I’m
serious. Thalmia is a dangerous place. We’ve already lost Bryn and
Scarlett and Lia. I’m not losing you too.”

He stroked her dark brown hair, which had
been matted by the morning mist. “We’ll be all right.”

Her arms enveloped him one more time.

Khalous had not given the boys much warning.
With a straightforward announcement he told them that their time at
Halus Gis had come to an end. They all knew it wasn’t his fault
though. With the death of Duktori Bendrosi, Prior Gravis was now in
charge, and it was no secret that he had long wanted to send them
away.

Brayden was sad to leave. Halus Gis had
become his home, and now it was the second home he had been forced
to leave in three years.

“Promise me something else,” Dana said. “If
you all are actually successful in finding these Kriegellian folks,
and if they will teach you their ways, learn it. Learn all of it. I
want us to bring a thunderstorm down on the Black King when we go
back.”

“You can be downright wicked when you get
riled. Did you know that?”

“I mean it,” she stressed.

“I know you do. It’s why I’m shaking right
now.”

She cracked a slight grin and rolled her
eyes.

“I’m serious,” Brayden said. “Look at my
boots. They’re quaking.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Goodbye,
sister.”

Khalous emerged from the chapel, a grim
personification of no-nonsense readiness. His silvery hair was
pulled back into a beaded ponytail, his beard braided in a short
spike just under his chin.

Behind him came Ariella, her cream-colored
sleeves hugging her aproned waist. Khalous gave her a tender hug
before proceeding through the mud toward the waiting train of
horses.

Brayden was just about to follow when he saw
Ty standing under the tall fir that shaded the chapel’s southeast
corner. He was holding hands with a downcast Senona. Even in her
sorrow the foreign girl looked beautiful, her sandy colored face
framed by the blackest silky locks.

Ty withdrew a milk thistle from his pocket
and handed it to her. She took it and returned a kiss.

Seeing the two of them together made
Brayden’s heart ache for Nairnah. He looked around for her among
the people of the monastery who had gathered to see them off, but
couldn’t find her. It pained him to think that she was so upset
over his leaving that she couldn’t come say goodbye.

Reluctantly Brayden walked to a horse that
was waiting for him alongside a covered supply wagon. It was an
ugly gray and white speckled mare that he had never ridden before.
Its ears twitched at him as he approached.

“You all righ‘, young master?” asked
Stoneman from atop the wagon seat.

Brayden mounted his horse and gave the
muscled warrior a curt nod.

Had he been in the mood to be a bit more
honest, however, he would have admitted that nothing felt right to
him. He didn’t like being forced out of Halus Gis by an ignorant
old prior. He didn’t like leaving Dana, Nairnah, and some of his
friends behind. He didn’t have a good feeling about their journey
and he despised how nervous and fearful he felt in his stomach.

He followed Khalous along the curving road
through the monastery. Behind him trailed Nash and Broderick,
followed by Stoneman in the wagon, and Clint, Preston, and Ty atop
horses of their own.

Brayden saw his own sullenness reflected in
each and every one of their faces. None of them wanted to leave.
The monastery had been their shelter for more than three years, a
place where they had all learned to be men.

At the western gate waited the priests and
nuns of Halus Gis—teachers, mentors, and even friends. The nuns
muttered prayers as the boys filed past while the priests tossed
them blessings in the name of the Allgod.

Gravis stood among them, stone-faced and
stubborn.

“Son of a whore,” Broderick muttered as they
sauntered by.

“I hope he gets the fire in him,” Nash
said.

Brayden set his jaw, determined not to
cry.

He hoped that leaving the monastery would
get easier the further away they traveled, but it didn’t. As the
company crested a distant hilltop, he twisted in his saddle to take
one last look at Halus Gis. The slate walls enclosing the chapel
and surrounding community were bathed in thin wisps of autumn fog,
their dreariness seeming to mourn his departure.

He thought again of Nairnah, her thin lips
and generous smile that always seemed to lift more on her right
cheek. She was thirteen now, and lovelier by the day.

Brayden imagined saying goodbye to her one
last time, the feel of her hands around his neck, her soft breasts
pressing against him as he squeezed her around the waist. He
decided in his mind that had he been given the chance to say
goodbye he would’ve kissed her. He wondered if she would’ve kissed
him back.

“Do you think we’ll ever see them again?”
Broderick asked.

Ty smiled. “I’m thinking yes.”

“I’m thinking no,” Nash said.

“What makes you think that?” Broderick
asked.

“My negative personality.”

Khalous trotted back to join them. “We’re
approaching the main road,” he said. “From here on out you speak
only Efferousian.”

The company journeyed south for the rest of
day. They traversed along grassy hills that gave way to league
after league of dull brown hardwood forest devoid of autumn’s
colors.

The country of Efferous was about twice the
size of Edhen, longer from north to south than it was wide. In the
summer months the northern regions were rich in emerald hills of
grass and dense forests that gave way to sandy deserts in the south
where the heat never died. Come wintertime the north endured
blustery winds with occasional snow, except for the immense
Thanadousi Mountain range where it seemed to snow almost
constantly.

The territories in between were a harsh
landscape of untouched wilderness, blistering sun, and strange
creatures.

“Will we see any of those barbarian girls?”
Nash asked.

“What barbarians?” Ty said.

“The ones you told us about. The ones that
don’t wear any coverings up top.”

“Them isn’t barbarians. Just because a
person lives in the Sylvestri doesn’t makes them barbarian.”

“The what?”

“He means The Wilds,” Broderick said.

“Whatever it’s called. You know who I mean.
Are we going to see any?”

Ty looked annoyed, as he often did when
dealing with Nash’s curiosity of Efferousian women. “No,” he said.
“Them is being in the desert lands much further east.”

“Forgive my brother,” Preston said. “He’s
merely being an idiot.”

Nash extended his hands and shrugged his
shoulders. “What’s wrong with—”

A roar echoed through the forest, bouncing
off the rocky hills to their right and the slate gray walls of the
mountain to their left.

Khalous lifted a fist in silent command and
the entire company came to a stop.

“What in all the hells was that?” Nash
asked.

“Whatever it was, it was way too close,”
Preston said.

Broderick looked around. “Sounds like old
Kette.”

“Oh, like you know,” Clint scoffed.

Broderick threw him a discourteous look.
“I’ve heard locals in Mykronos talk about him. They’ve seen
footprints. Trust me, he’s real.”

“He’s a myth.”

“It’s not being a him,” Ty said. “It’s being
a her. And you saying her name wrongly.”

“Says the one who can barely say anything,”
muttered Clint.

“Quiet!” Khalous said.

“What is a Kette anyway?” Preston asked.

“A mountain troll,” answered Brayden. Once
the words left his mouth, he felt his insides twist into a nervous
knot.

“Perfect,” Preston moaned. “That’s just
perfect.”

“Shut it!” Khalous snapped.

The group fell silent. They remained
stationary for several long moments, eyes and ears roaming about
the notch of rocks and hills.

Brayden inclined his head to the west,
listening to the wind tussle the tops of distant trees. He turned
eastward, hearing nothing but silence from the steep edges of the
mountain.

“Psst,” Nash said. “Your horse’s nostrils
are quivering.”

Brayden looked down at his ashen horse.
Although he couldn’t see her nostrils, he did notice her trembling
and that her ears were pinned.

“Something’s in the air she doesn’t like,”
he whispered.

Behind him he heard Broderick patting his
horse’s shoulder. “Easy girl,” he said in a low tone.

Up ahead, Brayden saw that Pick had stopped
at a bend in the road. He turned in his saddle and gestured with a
gloved hand for Khalous to come forward. Brayden took the
initiative and followed. His horse clopped along on the uneven
terrain, its ears flicking left, right, and then back again.

“What is it?” Khalous asked.

But Brayden saw it before Pick could even
answer—the mutilated corpse of a mountain lion. The carcass lay in
the grass off the beaten trail, but bloody red bits of it were
strewn across the road. A fresh kill.

“Mountain troll?” Khalous asked.

Pick glanced up at several large tree boughs
that stretched out over the road. “They normally prefer thicker
canopy than this.”

There was a sudden crashing in the woods
along the hills to the right that startled Brayden’s horse. He
urged the animal to be still while his eyes roamed the thick
evergreens. He saw no movement, but the crashing was inching
closer. When it stopped a cluster of black winged birds sprouted
from the trees in front of them into the gray sky, screeching and
complaining.

Brayden had long heard rumors of mountain
trolls, massive beasts that kept to the woods feeding off anything
they could find. Some people said they were timid. Others said they
were a myth. Brayden hoped for either.

“Perhaps we should keep moving,” Pick
whispered.

“No,” Khalous said. “We’re being
watched.”

“You see it?”

“Through the trees straight ahead.” Without
looking away from whatever it was he was seeing, the captain
continued, “Brayden, I want you to pass by behind me and continue
down to the next bend. Pick, send the others after him one at a
time.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t just—”

“This is a territorial challenge,” Khalous
said. “We just need to show him that we are not a threat to—”