Ariella and the Blood Curse Read online

  ariella-and-the-blood-curse

  Unknown

  * * *

  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

  This ebook is licensed for your pe rsonal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re -

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  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  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.”

  Hakeem nodded and dropped down the ladder from the command post onto

  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

  stern, keen to get the fighting over with as quickly as possible. They charged

  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.