ariella-and-the-blood-curse
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* * *
Ariella
and
The Blood Curse
By Owen Crane & Beth Crane
Ariella and the Blood Curse
By Owen Crane & Beth Crane
Copyright 2015 Owen Crane
Smashwords Edition
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This story was written for Beth, Joe & Isaac.
Your greatest adventures are in front of you.
“Fairy tales do not tell children that dragons exist. Children
already know dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children that
dragons can be killed.”
G K Chesterton
Prologue
The final edge of the setting sun slipped below the distant horizon. The early
evening sky was marked with streaks of deep crimson. A falling tide lapped on
the shore as the lone figure adjusted the hooded cloak across their shoulders. It
was the only movement they had made for the past hours as they stood staring
west, their eyes following the path of the sun. A solitary figure, bidding farewell
to the day and welcoming the night.
The hooded head turned fractionally as the sound of soft footsteps
approached across the sand.
“Apologies for my lateness, I was… waylaid. ” The approaching figure
spoke with gentleness, edged with steel. They wore the same hooded cloak, not
as any defence against the elements, but rather in an effort to not be seen. The
second form was shorter and slighter than the first. Standing shoulder to
shoulder together on the shore.
The former asked, “problems?”
The second smiled, “not for us.”
They stood for a while, unmoving, unspeaking as the last colours of day
departed from the earth. The twin moons began their eternal journey across the
heavens. Beyond them the constellations began to emerge from the darkness.
“Is the final piece in place?” It was a question not born of frustration or
urgency. It was a question that came from years of patient, meticulous planning.
The first figure had never taken their eyes from the horizon as if the subject of
their focus lay just beyond reach.
“It is. Finally. Everything is in place. I sail tonight”
The figures lifted their heads towards the twin moons. Owr, the greater,
leading Cashak, his smaller sibling across the night sky. For the first time in
many nights, the first figure smiled. They turned to their companion, eyes
ablaze, a deep, red fire, burned bright within. They spoke with a whisper.
“There"s a dark moon rising.”
Chapter 1
The fishing village they were leaving was burning. Tall columns of black
smoke were twisting through the early morning sky. The Ghost Raider"s ships
were light and fast. They cut through the waves like shining daggers seeking to
escape the wide bay into the open sea.
The King"s face was grim, his eyes dark and menacing.
“Cut them off,” he commanded. “Let none of them escape.”
The helmsman swung the wheel, adjusting their angle. The signalman
indicated to the following ships, issuing the King"s orders. The five Sea Eagles,
the navy of Lightharbour, fanned out and formed a broad phalanx. They bore
down on the Ghost Raiders with the wind in their sails.
The King turned to Hakeem, his second in command and most trusted
friend.
“Ready the men.”
the deck and strode to the bow, studying the three Ghost Raider ships. Their
bright red sails stood out against the blue sea, angling away from the
approaching Sea Eagles, desperately trying to make their escape.
“No you don"t,” whispered Hakeem.
He called over to the commander of the marines. “Oscar!” A tall, broad
shouldered Marine came to Hakeem"s side. They had fought many battles
together and knew each other well. They shared a hatred of the Ghost Raiders
and their brand of piracy.
“None escape Oscar. No prisoners.”
Oscar nodded, flexed his fingers and loosened his sword. He walked over to
his men gathered in the centre of the ship and began issuing orders. They were
seasoned veterans and moved smoothly into position. Archers took their places
high on the rigging and along the port and starboard sides. Squads of marines
made ready with hooked walkways set for boarding.
Hakeem glanced up at the King and nodded.
“We"re ready,” he signalled.
The King"s ship was at the point of the phalanx as they drove down on the
Ghost Raiders. Hakeem watched the scurrying sailors on the other ship as they
realized that escape was no longer an option.
Closer and closer, their ship smashing through the waves, Oscar"s marines
were poised for impact. Hakeem lifted his arm; the archers readied their bows
and drew back their strings. Hakeem dropped his arm.
“Fire!”
A cloud of arrows flew into the air and fell like rain on the enemy ship. He
heard the screams as the Raiders died. They were so close now he could see their
ghostly white complexion, red tattoos looked like fresh wounds across their
cheeks.
He glanced across at the other Sea Eagles; two ships on each side. The Ghost
Raiders were hemmed in, there was no way out.
The archers fired again and again sending the enemy sailors scurrying across
their deck looking for cover. The Ghost Raiders were neither as numerous nor as
well trained as the marine archers that rode up high in the rigging, yet years
alone in the islands of the north hadn"t been altogether fruitless. They quickly
regained their composure and grabbed their bows. Within a matter of seconds
they were matching every arrow that Oscar"s marines fired at them. Their
arrows found their mark and cries of pain echoed around Hakeem.
The wind was full in their sails, driving their ship into the midst of the Ghost
Raiders.
“Brace! Brace!” Hakeem yelled.
Their massive ram struck the enemy ship dead centre. There was an ear
splitting crack as the metal ram smashed through the side of the wooden ship
just below the waterline.
Oscar drew his sword “Now!” He commanded.
The marines snapped into action, boarding planks were dropped into place
and they threw themselves at the enemy warriors. Like a wave crashing over the
side of their ship Oscar led his men into battle.
The ring of steel upon steel filled the air as the cries of battle mi
ngled with
the moans of the wounded. The Ghost Raiders were outnumbered but fought
with tremendous ferocity. Their bowmen continued to fire at point blank range
even when faced with an imminent death. No mercy was asked for and none
was given.
Hakeem dived over the boarding planks, a scimitar in each hand, cutting
down Ghost Raiders left and right. He threw himself sideways as a spear was
thrown at his chest. Rolling to his feet, he blocked the thrust of a cutlass with
one scimitar and swung the other across the Raider"s throat.
Arrows were buzzing back and forth between the two ships. Hakeem felt
one fly past his cheek causing him to duck instinctively.
He called back over his shoulder to the archers. “Take out those bowmen!”
He saw his archers adjust their aim and loose a volley into the enemy ranks.
The fighting moved along the deck away from Hakeem. There was a final
remnant of the Raiders on the stern fighting with intensity and refusing to give
up. He glanced over at the other Sea Eagles as they engaged the remaining
ships. The Ghost Raiders were outnumbered on all fronts, none would escape.
He gathered the marines around him and ran along the deck towards the
into the Raiders, men falling on both sides. Steadily they pushed them back
towards the edge of the ship but still the Raiders fought on.
Ten left, then seven, then four. Hakeem and Oscar were side-by-side,
battling, their sweat mingled with the enemy blood. Two left, their cutlasses a
blur as the remaining Raiders tried desperately to kill as many of the marines as
possible before the end. Hakeem pushed forward forcing one of them back but
just as he was about to make the final blow his boot slipped on the deck and he
fell to one knee, his hands outstretched to brace his fall. The Raider saw his
opportunity and leapt forward with glee determined to end Hakeem"s life. His
cutlass flew down in the killing blow and Hakeem shut his eyes ready to die.
Sparks flew as the cutlass ricocheted off the sword that blocked it inches
from Hakeem"s head. The Raider"s arm was thrown upwards as he staggered
back. The King swung his sword and ended the Raider’s life. Oscar and his
marines dispatched the last Raider and suddenly the deck was silent.
The King pulled Hakeem to his feet and smiled.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Hakeem said as he bowed. “I am in your debt,
again.”
The King laughed and placed his hand on Hakeem"s shoulder. “My dear
Hakeem, I am in your debt too many times to count. I am glad to repay just one
of those debts.”
A flicker of movement from the rigging above caught the King"s eye and he
looked upwards. His next movement was pure instinct. His hand still on
Hakeem"s shoulder, he yanked his friend to the side. The arrow that was flying
towards Hakeem"s neck instead plunged deep into the King"s chest.
A dozen archers on the Sea Eagle ship moved as one, responding to the
attack on their King, firing their arrows. The lone Ghost Raider fell to the deck
with a dull thud.
The King"s legs buckled and Hakeem caught him and laid him on the deck.
“Healer!” he screamed, the desperation rippling through his voice.
“Healer!”
Running footsteps could be heard along the ship.
Hakeem cradled the King"s head as a thin bubble of blood emerged from his
lips.
“Hang on Your Majesty, the Healer is coming.”
The King coughed and gripped Hakeem"s arm. He pulled his friend closer
and shook his head. He knew his wound was beyond the ship"s healer. He
needed a Guardian.
“Hakeem.” The King"s whisper was hoarse and weak. “My family,
Hakeem.” His body was wracked with coughing, rich, red blood trickling from
his mouth.
Hakeem blinked back the tears and nodded. “They are my family, my King.
I will be there, I will always be there.”
The King nodded and smiled. He looked up to the bright blue morning sky,
closed his eyes and exhaled. He never breathed again.
_____________
Hakeem shook himself from his memories as he entered the corridor to
Ariella"s bedroom. The promise he had made to her father eight years ago was
still as fresh to him today. The corridor was empty and quiet. The window at
the far end looked over the palace gardens and beyond them to the vast Southern
Sea.
Hakeem stopped and listened. The palace was still, no one was awake at this
hour except the guards, but they didn"t have access to the family quarters.
Hakeem walked silently down the long, dark corridor, his cloth shoes making no
noise on the thick carpet. He stopped outside Ariella"s bedroom; his sharp ears
could hear the faint sound of her rhythmic breathing beyond the door.
He wasn"t sure what brought him to her room tonight. Perhaps it was the
whispers that he had been hearing from his spies across the seas. Maybe it was
because tomorrow was the announcement and he was feeling the loss of her
father more sharply than normal. Whatever it was, something was amiss,
something in Hakeem prevented him from sleeping and drew him here.
He turned his back to Ariella"s door and there he stayed, motionless, his
arms folded inside the silk sleeves of his jacket. He wasn"t sure how long he
stayed there; the light of dawn was not yet visible through the corridor window,
but somehow the corridor felt different. Slowly, almost imperceptibly,
something had changed. The hairs on the back of Hakeem"s neck bristled. He
peered down the dark corridor. It looked empty. Yet, something was there.
Hakeem didn"t move. He watched and waited. The air had grown thin, cold
and dry. The moisture had dried from his mouth. Still there was nothing, but
something.
Then he saw it. A shadow. Faint, but darker than the rest of the corridor. It
had the form of a man, standing still, unnaturally still, in the middle of the
corridor. Hakeem watched, running through the options in his mind.
It’s real. I know it’s real. I know it shouldn’t be but it’s real. What’s it doing here and who, if anybody, has sent it?
Then, slowly, it moved. Hakeem blinked several times just to be sure. Yes, it
was moving, no, gliding, towards him and towards Ariella.
Hakeem stepped away from the door directly in front of the approaching
shadow. It stopped, about ten feet from him. They stood watching each other.
“No” said Hakeem.
The shadow flinched.
“No. You will not go any further.”
The shadow paused then moved its head in a peculiar manner. Its shoulders
seemed to be moving as well, in a similar motion to its head. Hakeem was
puzzled, but then he realized what he was looking at.
It’s laughing. This shadow is laughing at me.
The shadow was still again and then advanced on Hakeem. He didn"t flinch.
The shadow came right up to him and still he didn"t move. It stopped again, its
face an inch from Hakeem"s.
They stood there, staring at each other, neither giving ground. Then the
shadow turned its head, focusing on Ariella"s bedroom door.
“I
don"t know whose shadow you are. I don"t know if someone controls you
or if you are acting on your own. But I do know this. You are not going in
there.”
The shadow turned back to face him.
“You like the darkness and for whatever reason you want to remain hidden.”
The shadow didn"t move.
Hakeem reached into a pouch on his belt. Closing his hands around a
smooth crystal cube no bigger than a gaming dice. He withdrew his hand and
showed it to the shadow.
“This is a curious delight from my homeland. There"s a trader that comes
into Lightharbour every now and then that collects them for me. It"s a Sun Cube.
Have you heard of it?” It seemed to Hakeem that the shadow blinked. “I see. So
you understand that if I crush it in my hand then this dark corridor will be
bathed in warm sunlight. Every shadow will vanish.”
Hakeem spun the cube in his fingers, and then let it lie on his open palm.
Still the shadow didn"t move. Hakeem shrugged his shoulders and began to
close his palm to crush the cube.
“Wait.”
The shadow"s voice was hollow, like an echo, as if someone was speaking
quietly in a deep cave. It startled Hakeem but he recovered quickly.
It speaks. I wasn’t expecting that.
He opened his hand. The cube was still whole.
“What are you doing here?” He asked.
There was a long silence. It seemed to Hakeem that the shadow was
weighing its options.
“I came to see.”
Hakeem waited.
“I came to see her.”
“Why?”
This time Hakeem heard the laugh. It had the same hollowness as the voice
but there was darkness to it, a malevolence that set Hakeem on edge.
“I want to see who I need to kill.”
The shadow rushed past Hakeem towards the closed door. He crushed the
cube flooding the corridor with light. The shadow was halted halfway inside,
and then it vanished leaving Hakeem alone in the corridor.
The air changed, the cold dryness was gone. There was silence and stillness.
He put his ear to the door and heard her breathing, the same rhythm as before.
He eased it open and studied her room. It was peaceful the shadow was gone.