Blood of the Red

Chapter 37 - Jedax

Chapter 37 – Jedax

Jedax regarded the dry husk of his body. A shrivelled thing, ruined by Ingold Stannith's sword. He watched it with his spirit eyes. The eyes that last saw Ingold were withered raisins now, resting in parched sockets. Blood was all that remained to him. Blood and the will to shape it. Blood and his hatred. Jedax's blood-form anchored his spirit, and to spy on the bard he willed it into motion. The dark crimson pool flowed silently to the doorway.

Free of the flesh Jedax's vision revealed more than when blinded by eyes. He saw the three figures only dimly, the physical forms merely faint support for their auras, shining brightly. Even without spirit eyes the boy's aura could be seen. It had dazzled Jedax when the Gate-Keeper hurried the child past earlier. Now the boy blazed, filling the chamber with pure white light. The auras of the two men, though far stronger than those of normal men, were pale in comparison. Ingold's aura burned in a halo about his head, the red-gold fire, muted and bound about with shadow. It burned more brightly as the child drew near.

The Gate-Keeper stepped before the boy and in that instant Jedax knew he had been deceived. The crimson mask and robes offered no disguise now. In place of the ordered dark-crimson of the Keeper's aura this man's spirit guttered and flared. Flashes of brilliant blue circled a maelstrom in which silver drowned within black fire. An impostor! And more, a Servant of the Blue.

The trio passed through the Sanctum door and were gone. Jedax's mind turned to his own survival. Answering his desire his blood-form crept up the wall. From wall it flowed to ceiling, leaving no hint of a trail. There, directly above his corpse, Jedax waited.

The guard entered at a run. Just one man, skidding to a halt in front of the fallen priest. His armour marked him as a First. Jedax perceived the man from above. He recognized him as Rotar, a promising young lad, skilled at chess and the best archer in the Cloister regiment. Jedax's blood-form bulged from the ceiling, a thick dark puddle, defying the pull of the earth. Now, as Rotar paused by the corpse, Jedax let his blood flow into a single drop, huge and lustrous. The young man knelt and Jedax fell.

The blood hit Rotar with the noise of porridge falling into a bowl. Like ink on blotting paper the dark liquid soaked into him. The guard managed one scream of horror before the whites of his eyes turned crimson and he started to fit. Fresh arterial blood gushed cherry-red from his mouth, spraying between clenched teeth. Jedax forced his way into Rotar's veins, and Rotar's blood left to make room. He invaded the young body, claiming it muscle by muscle, one bone at a time.

With his new ears Jedax heard feet pounding down the tunnel toward him.

"Two men down!" a voice cried.

Jedax lay still, focused on completing his conquest. Blood Guard moved around him.

"This ... this is Rotar? Gods! What happened?"

"This one is a priest. I can't tell who?"

"Is it the Gate-Keeper?"

Jedax bent his will upon the face he now wore. He forced his blood into the skin. Forced it up into the pores, making it congeal, forming patterns. Hands grasped him now. Fingers pressed to the side of his throat.

"He ... he's still alive!"

"He can't be!"

"There's a pulse. Help me clean some of this gore from him."

Jedax opened his eyes. The Blood Guard shrank back as he raised himself into a sitting position. Pulling up a handful of his cloak – Rotar's cloak – Jedax wiped his face clean, revealing the black patterns written there. Three long triangles, trailing from one cheekbone, three bars and three dots below the other.

"I am the Gate-Keeper now." Rotar's pleasant voice sounded ugly around Jedax's words.

The four Blood Guard paled and bowed their heads. One of them, a scarred veteran, spoke without looking up, "None were found in the search of the inner city, Holy One. The barracks are in ruins, Garven and Chal are dead. A search of the tunnels is underway. We found the ... we found a dead priest also."

At mention of the barracks, visions - seared deeply in Rotar's brain - swam before Jedax's eyes. He saw the corridor outside the barracks, patterned with the tell-tale marks of wild electrical discharges. He saw heaped chains, some links melted through, all scorched and caked with thick black residue. The upper 'jaw' of man-trap hung from the wall, metal teeth bedded in the stone.

The former Gate-Keeper's blood must have formed a golem but the servant of the Blue who killed his body was able to destroy his blood too.

"We have invaders," Jedax said. His voice came softly but the building undercurrent of rage was unmistakable. "Ingold Stannith is in the Sanctum. He has an Arkasian accomplice, a tool of the Brotherhood, sick with the Blood of the Blue. They have a child with them too, a boy.

"Summon all the Blood Guard. I want every man here. There is but one way out of the Sanctum and when they emerge... When they emerge, kill all but the bard. I will teach that one to sing new songs before I let him die."

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