Blood of Dragons: Book 3
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Epic Fantasy, Novel
Gryphon’s Gate Publishing, May 2020
Their greatest test lies ahead
Caerwyn feels lost, untethered, cold. She can’t reconcile who she is now with who she had been. Yet she struggles onward, not knowing what she’s looking for, but hoping she can find some sense of direction and purpose.
Jais works daily to master his abilities, but still feels so far from knowing the full extent of what he can do. He knows he is capable of more, but feels held back by not knowing who he truly is. At the same time, he worries for Caerwyn. A part of him wants desperately to help her, but he has no clue what can shake her out of the darkness of her own soul.
Yet, when they meet an odd group of refugee Drahksani in the south, everything starts to change. Their own worries will have to wait as they are pulled into a desperate struggle against a foe more powerful than any they’ve fought before, who is aided by a mysterious and divine force.
It will take all their strength and abilities to face this new threat. Yet even then, that may not be enough. It might just take a miracle to save them this time.
Chapter 1
The sun was barely above the horizon as Jais began his calisthenics. The routine, which he’d built up over the last three months, loosened and worked out important muscles before the usual morning sword practice.
Once done with his stretches, he paused for a moment to enjoy the morning blooming around him. The days were quite warm here in the south, even though it was a little more than a month past the Feast of Emera, celebrating the harvest at the autumnal equinox. Back in Klasten’s Green, the days would be growing cool and the nights even cooler. But the seasons had hardly seemed to change during the time he, Caerwyn, and Volf had been on the road.
Last night they had camped near a stone bridge, where the road crossed a small river. A forest sat to one side, perhaps fifty feet from the road, and on the other side, more farmer’s fields. This morning, birds sang pleasant tunes, flitting back and forth, from trees to crops. The sky was a pristine blue, light and clear, save for a few clouds crowding on the southern horizon.
They were well out of the northlands now and there were more cities and settlements down here. Not quite a week ago, they’d gone through a city which dwarfed anything Jais had seen before in his travels. Supposedly, ten thousand people lived in the city alone, not counting the farms around it, which Jais guessed would add an equal amount if not more to the population. The road they followed — paved with flat stones and well used — led to another city called Laskovic, which they would reach later today. This new city was reported to be even larger than the last, a hub of trade. The fact that such massive settlements existed boggled Jais’ mind.
Caerwyn was up and tending her weapons. Volf was awake and had gone down to the creek to clean himself up a bit.
Jais drew in a deep breath and moved from stretching to exercises. He was sweating only a little by the time he was done, more from the growing heat of the day than exertion.
Caerwyn drew near and tossed him a practice ‘sword,’ which was little more than a straight length of wood they’d pilfered from a tree some time ago.
“Ready?” Her voice was flat, as was her expression.
Inwardly, Jais sighed at her lack of vigor. It had been months since their run-in with the wizard back north and still she seemed dispirited. Nothing seemed to be able to snap her back to her old self. Where she had once been a confident warrior, now she seemed to lack any faith in herself, despite that she still beat him at sparring three days out of five. For Jais’ part, he had done his mourning for Elria. He missed the northern woman deeply, but he knew he had to move on with his life. There was no use living in the past. It was his future that worried him.
Unlike Caerwyn and Volf, he hadn’t had the chance to speak to the ancient dragon in the north before it died, killed by that Holn-spawned wizard. Caerwyn and Volf knew all about their drahksani powers and heritage. He knew nothing other than what little his aunt had told him and what powers he had already discovered. Yet there remained a rather large unknown within him which he sought to explore, but without a dragon, he had no idea how to do so.
Volf approached.
“You should have probably waited until after we’d sparred to wash up,” Jais chided.
Volf shrugged then rolled his shoulders, seemingly with some pain. “Perhaps, but I was stiff and sore.” The lean man was sore all the time, it seemed. Volf had been practicing with them, but Jais was surprised at his lack of progress. Where Jais had picked up the basics of fighting fairly easily within only a few days, for Volf it had taken months. He was only now a passable fighter on a good day. “I wanted to wake myself up a little. It’s amazing what a little cold river water will do. Though water here doesn’t seem half as cold as that up north.”
Jais laughed. “You come from a town called Cold River. I think anything in the south will have trouble living up to that.”
Volf grinned. “Fair enough.”
“Enough talk,” Caerwyn said with listless exasperation. She tossed Volf a practice sword. “Fight.” She wasn’t much for talking these days either.
Jais squared off with Volf. He’d go easy on the man. Volf never started a match, but waited and watched. That was good, but someday he may need to start a fight and he wouldn’t know any good opening moves if he never tried any.
Jais swung lazily at Volf. He thought he was moving slowly, but Volf barely got his sword up in a weak block. If Jais had put any significant force behind the strike he’d have knocked Volf’s sword into the man’s own neck.
Volf was very quick, to his credit, once the man was warmed up. At that point, Jais could attack at normal speeds and Volf would be able to defend himself. But Volf rarely went on the offensive and fighting defensively wouldn’t win battles. Also, his strength wasn’t anywhere near Jais’, and Jais found himself having to pull his strikes, so as not to knock Volf’s sword out of his hands entirely.
“You’re pulling your strikes,” Caerwyn said astutely. “Don’t. He needs to know what it’s going to be like in the heat of battle.”
“I’m a lot stronger than most men he’d face,” Jais said, not stopping with his attacks.
“And if he can learn to counter your attacks, he’ll have no problem with those others. Don’t hold back.”
That seemed harsh, but Jais put his full strength into the next slash. Volf’s practice sword was there to block the blow, but Jais’ wooden sword simply pushed Volf’s sword back to hit him on his sword arm, hard.
Volf staggered to one side, falling to one knee, dropping his sword.
“Ah, ow!” Volf gasped, holding his arm with a pained expression.
Jais looked at Caerwyn, who shook her head.
“Volf, what did I tell you about hard wrists?” Caerwyn asked in a deflated yet exasperated tone. “Hard but flexible. Remember that?”
The man nodded. “Jais is too strong!”
“Then you should be…?” Caerwyn trailed off, looking expectantly at Volf to finish the sentence. She got a blank stare for her trouble. Jais knew the answer. A moment later, Caerwyn shook her head and finished. “…using two hands on the grip. If you’re fighting a stronger foe you need to make sure you can resist their blows and if that means using both hands, you do it. You still think you can match him? You can’t.”
It was harsh, if true.
“Also, you are so much quicker than he is. Why aren’t you trying to attack him? If you attack quick you could easily whittle down someone of superior strength.”
Jais didn’t think he was that much slower.
“Get your sword and get up. Attack him!” Caerwyn wasn’t leaving room for questions.
Volf did so, though he winced as he gripped the stick — his arm must hurt. He set himself and Jais readied for an attack. This wasn’t how it would happen in real life, he’d probably be attacking already, but he’d humor Volf.
Volf’s sword whipped around, almost too fast to see. But the attack was at Jais’ sword arm and he didn’t have to move his blade much to block it. He stopped the other man’s sword less than an inch from his shoulder, then saw an opening and took it. He spun his sword at the wrist of Volf’s sword-arm, smacking it hard. He was already inside the other man’s’ defenses so Volf never had a chance to block the blow. How was that for fast?
“Cursed Shadows of Holn!” Volf swore as he dropped his sword and clutched his wrist.
Caerwyn sighed, drawing Jais’ attention. She was shaking her head.
“What was that?” she asked with another heavy sigh. The question wasn’t for him, but for Volf.
“I…” the slender man seemed to deflate a little. “I was just doing what you said!”
“I suppose,” she said with a flat stare. “But why attack his sword arm? His sword was right there ready to defend against such an attack. There were so many other places you could have tried.”
“I thought I’d try to end the fight quickly by disarming him.”
“But against a superior foe, you leave yourself open if the attack fails. You need to be sure you’re going to hit if you’re attacking in such a way. If you aren’t certain you’ll hit, then… well, don’t do that.”
“Ah.” Volf didn’t seem pleased to hear this. He shrank in on himself a little more.
“If you are going to do that, make it more of a feint.”
“A bluff?”
She nodded. “Give me your sword.” He handed it over. She squared off against Jais. “We’re going to do the same thing, slowly, so Volf can see it.”
Jais nodded.
She sliced at Jais’ shoulder. He blocked and pushed her blade away. Yet she was stepping in at the same time. She’d made sure her blade was knocked more back toward her than away and having moved in she was now too close for his quick counter attack. Instead, she had her blade well within Jais’ guard and at his throat a moment later.
“Hunh!” Jais blinked. “Didn’t see that coming.”
“Then you both still need a lot of work,” she said sharply. She was close, her look hard. “Your style is still raw and uncontrolled. You need more precision. If you can manage that…” She stepped away and shrugged. “Then you might just be the best warrior I’ve ever seen.”
Oh? Really? The best? But her words before that had been on point. He was still rough. He trusted his strength and natural talent more than his training. It worked most of the time, but…
“Volf, take a break. I’ll spar with Jais for a while,” Caerwyn said setting herself again.
Jais did the same.
When she came at him, she didn’t hold back. Flying into a series of attacks, she pushed him back, step after step. Finally, he knocked her sword down and away, stepping to one side so she was forced past him. He stopped, breathing hard.
He heard her voice behind him. “You could have cut me as I passed you there. You’re missing things.”
He grimaced with a wince. She was right. He could have sliced at her left shoulder as she’d stumbled past him. He sighed. “I’m tired. It’s early”
“You’ll be tired in fights too. You can’t miss any opening.” And with that she threw herself at him in a savage series of attack, pushing him back the way they’d come once more.
He heard Volf’s low whistle and some exclamation as they passed him.
Jais finally dug in and stopped giving ground.
Caerwyn nodded even though she didn’t relent on her attacks. He was still defending, but he wasn’t going to let her push him. He wondered if she was growing tired.
Then something came over him. Some extreme sense of peace and centeredness. It was as if her attacks slowed, as if time itself slowed, everything but him. He could see what she was going to do before she did it. No, not see, it was more of an innate sense. He just knew what she was going to do.
He found his eyes slowly closing. But his sword arm kept moving. He felt the rush of wind from her blade, heard her grunts and the slide of her feet on the ground. He knew what she was doing without looking. It was amazing!
He felt his sword connect with her sword-arm, mid-forearm. She gave a grunt and he heard the clatter of her wooden sword hit the paving stones.
He heard her step back, away, breathing hard.
“What in Holn was that?” she asked.
Jais blinked his eyes open. “I don’t know.” He grinned. “Whatever it was, it felt amazing. I could tell what you were doing even with my eyes closed. I just… knew what was happening and how to counter each attack. It felt easy and smooth.” He looked down at the stone road, still blinking in surprise. Shaking his head, he said, “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
It felt like some piece of a puzzle had fallen into place within him. As if he’d been some ideal version of himself. It had been transcendent!
And yet… that only served to illustrate how much he still didn’t know about himself and his powers. Could he even get back to that place of ease and flow again if he tried? Probably not. He let out another sigh. All it had been was a single glimpse of a larger mystery he still couldn’t define. There was so much more he needed to learn.
Caerwyn’s voice was a little different than her usual blasé tone when she spoke. “Take some time to think about what happened. See if you can do it again tomorrow when we spar.”
“I will.”
“For now, let’s get some food, I’m famished.”
Volf was already laying out a cold breakfast. They’d picked up some fruit, bread, and cheese in the last city and were nearly done with it.
As Jais came over, Volf held out his arm. There was a nasty welt on his wrist and upper arm. “Care to heal me?”
Jais nodded. The wounds were his fault, after all. He knelt next to the man and soothed the two wounds.
Caerwyn’s tone was back to its usual spear-point sharpness when she sat. “You won’t always have a healer around. Sometimes you just need to keep going through the pain to survive.”
Volf eyed her but said nothing.
She looked away as she chewed on some hard bread. Jais looked off to where she seemed to be looking. It was south, and dark clouds were gathering there. Looking back at her, he saw a similarly dark expression on her face. These gloomy moods were normal for her now. She always seemed to have that dark and cloudy feeling about her.
He wondered what it would take to snap her out of whatever dark place she was in.