The Harp of Aleth Read Online Free PDF Page B

piece of their own work.”
    “That’s Nurgle, one of the Dark Gods.” Joran hid a smile at Julissa’s reaction. “He’s supposed to look like that, especially as he’s the God of Disease, Deformity and Physical Corruption, amongst other things.”
    “Thank you, I did know that,” Julissa snapped. “I just don’t understand why they would voluntarily worship such a hideous being.”
    Joran raised an eyebrow. I’m saying nothing. For a highly educated bard, she’s very sensitive to perceived criticism.
    “I suppose they think that by worshipping him they won’t contract any of the diseases that underground workers usually get,” Virrinel said, drawing Julissa’s ire.
    “That’s not the point. Espilieth should be enough!” she snapped. “Invoking the Dark Gods causes only trouble.”
    “I can see the mechanism to open the passageway. Do you want to follow them, Lady Julissa?” Joran’s formal tone jolted her back to the job at hand.
    After a moment’s thought, Julissa shook her head.
    “Not at the moment. If they have not returned by morning, then we’ll follow.”
    Virrinel held back his sigh of relief at the look on her face. She’s annoyed with being left behind. Just like the time her sister Kirassa was taken to court and not her.
    “Then wait we shall.” Joran bowed slightly.
    Julissa turned on her heel and stalked into her room. Joran and Virrinel went to the sitting room.
    Virrinel stopped outside Julissa’s door.
    “Nothing will harm her here, Ser Knight,” Joran said.
    “I know that.” Virrinel paused, looking at the Blood Mage.
    “You still don’t trust me?” Joran chuckled. “I’m used to that. No one really trusts a Blood Mage, even in Elysia where we are commonplace.”
    “If Lady Julissa trusts you, then I trust you,” Virrinel replied and sat down on a chair where he could watch the entrance to the sitting room and Julissa’s door. Slipping his claws out, he cleaned them with his dagger.
    “But you don’t.” Joran relaxed against the soft cushions. “I’m not Archmage of the Blood Guild for nothing, Ser Virrinel.”
    The autochthon looked at him, his golden eyes narrowed.
    “I need to be able to trust you.” Around his neck, ginger and cream fur ruffled and he smoothed it down absently, before he drew his sword and pulled a polishing cloth from a belt pouch.
    “Would a blood oath satisfy you?” Joran leaned forward. He wants to tell me something important.
    Virrinel seemed to be in a trance, his hands gently stroking the hilt of his sword with the cloth, an odd glow of rainbow coloured light pulsing around his fingers as the light caught the gems in the hilt. Suddenly he took a deep breath.
    “Yes, but only if we become blood brothers.”
    Joran blinked. “You do realise what that would mean?”
    Virrinel tilted his head and his eyes glowed red in the lamplight.
    “Completely.”
    Joran smiled.
    “I would welcome a brother; my birth family disowned me when I was sworn to Kaela Mensha.”
    “Julissa is my family. She saved me from a slaver’s shipwreck when I was a cub,” Virrinel lamented. “The rest of her family treat me as they would a pet. Only Julissa ever accepted me as a person.”
    Joran nodded. “Then we are doubly brothers, for I see a Knight in front of me, not an animal.”
    Laying his sword to one side, Virrinel drew his dagger. “Thank you.”
    Joran drew his own dagger. “Ready?”
    Virrinel nodded.
    Together they slashed their left palms. The blood ran brightly and they clasped hands, squeezing so their blood mingled and dropped to the floor.
    Joran spoke first.
    “In the name of Espilieth, Lady of Magic and Kaela Mensha, Lord of Blood, I claim Ser Virrinel of Alethdan as my Brother. When we face battle, my skills shall guard him; when doubts assail him I shall speak only truth and when happiness is his, I will rejoice with him. No matter where he goes, he may call upon my aid until the end of time.”
    Joran blinked as the lamplight