Blood Vow (The Three Lands) by Dusk Peterson

Author:Dusk Peterson [Peterson, Dusk]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction / Fantasy / Historical
Publisher: Love in Dark Settings Press
Published: 2017-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THREE

Next morning, as we passed through the city gates, we met John again.

I had lingered at the gates as the rest of the party rode forward, because from this vantage point I could see down into the rest of the city. Most of the city was unfamiliar – the fire had cleansed the capital of its past. The houses I had played amidst had been replaced by an Emorian army camp; the streets were in a new pattern, as though a spider had rewoven its web during the night. My eyes sought one of the few remaining landmarks of my childhood: Council Hill, still covered on its slopes with trees, but now capped by a miniature version of the building that was my home. Another palace, another place of imprisonment for Peter.

Something to the side of me caught my eye. It was John, sitting on a traders’ mule and gazing upon the city with a strange, tender look. Dark circles smudged the skin under his eyes, and his face was solemn.

He looked over at me and said, “I saw you ahead on the road. I thought I would catch up.” He had changed from his priestly robe into the dark tunic that traders wear, but unlike most Koretian men, he bore no weapon. To the left side of his chest, pinned over his heart, was one of the tiny, wooden god-masks that Koretians wear for protection. The mask was black on black clothing, hard to see even at close range, and I leaned over with curiosity to discover which god John had chosen to place himself under the care of. It took me a moment to realize that John was wearing a mask that no Koretian ever wore: the mask of the Unknowable God.

He reached upward at that moment with his dagger-hand to sweep his hair out of his eyes. His fingers were curled slightly inwards. I caught a flickering sight of his palm: it was black and rugged.

The sharp intake of my breath caught John’s attention away from the city. He followed my gaze and said, “That happened years ago. I burnt myself on a fire that I built for a god.”

I said slowly, “A sacrificial fire?”

John looked back at me steadily, his silence his only answer. I said, “You must have needed a great deal of help from the god in order to make such a sacrifice.”

“It was for a friend of mine. An Emorian soldier had stabbed him, and he was in danger of dying.”

I remained without words a while, thinking that it was just like John to fight the Emorians, not with weapons, but by sacrificing his own flesh. Then I asked, “Did you reach Valouse?”

“Brendon, my trader friend, was halfway to the city when I met him. We came back together and took a room for the night along the way. Brendon needed the rest. He travelled on to the city this morning, but I rode up to the priests’ house to see whether you had left yet.

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