Ascent of the Unwanted (The Chronicle of Unfortunate Heroes Book 1) (8 page)

He was doing it again. A drum beat with the rhythmic cadence of a beating heart had begun and he had not noticed when it started. A haze of smoke filled the air and he realized his throat already felt raw from it. Erik looked toward the source of the smoke. Two men were busy placing large branches covered with dry leaves on a bonfire built upwind of the congregation. The smoke smelled sweet and when Erik licked his lips to wet them he tasted sugar instead of salt. His head was spinning now. This was not exhaustion. He needed to be out of here.

“Relax. Take a deep breath,” Istan’s voice whispered in his left ear. The man had silently moved behind him again. While his heart was fluttering from the start Erik wondered, not for the first time, how his sire had acquired such a skill. He was convinced Istan could sneak up on a frightened jackrabbit in an empty meadow. Erik took a deep breath as instructed. The smoke filled his lungs and made his head roll and dip but the overall feeling of anxiety soon passed.

“Good. You may be wondering why you have been feeling odd. The stew you ate for lunch was drugged. The drug by itself simply makes one drowsy, a common sleeping remedy. Mixed with the smoke of leaves from a certain tree though, it helps in the first part of the union of brothers. Your mount will be your brother. He will be your friend and companion. When he has chosen you it will be as if you had been born from the same womb.”

Erik looked around the open pen. Every trainee in his class had a Cavalier standing behind him. Gavin stood behind Lawt stooping down to whisper in his friend’s ear. Behind Arlif stood a man with the same noticeable hooked nose and icy blue eyes. Evidently, some Cavaliers literally sired sons to bring to The Halls of the White Charger.

“Your brother will protect you,” Istan continued. “If your brother is not trained correctly great harm will befall him. It is your responsibility to train him. If you fail him he will die. Your brother will be stoned and beaten until lifeless while you look upon what your negligence wrought. If your brother is trained correctly, when you move beyond these walls, he will bolster and lift you above the feats of normal men. You will be able to draw upon each other’s strengths. You will push each other beyond what you each individually are physically capable. With you, your brother will be smarter than the horses you have come to know. Your minds will be attuned to each other’s senses. You will feel each other’s pain and sorrow. You will bask in each other’s joy and triumphs. The union makes two individuals one…”

Erik finally lost his ability to concentrate on what was going on around him. Erik’s mind was no longer in the training pen. He felt like he was running. The heartbeat of the drum pounded in his chest. The wind whipped his hair around his neck. He saw all his brothers and sisters running with him. The herd moved as a unit. Wherever the white horse led they ran. They ran with the exhilaration and freedom of those who have no cares. As the exertion caused him to sweat the cold crisp air blew in to chill his muscles. The white horse disappeared over a hill and still they followed. Over the hills they ran faster and farther than Erik ever dreamed.

Leaping over the next hill Erik was alone. He was falling now. The hill had turned into a cliff. The same accompaniment pounded in his ears. He tried to look down but his muscles would not move. The wind and the earthen wall speeding past him were enough to tell him he had already fallen a long way. He tensed himself, preparing for an impact and still continued to fall. The sensation of the fall disheartened him but caused him no pain. He had already fallen beyond the point of survival. Surprisingly, this thought calmed him but his heart still jumped into his throat. No matter how prepared and calm his mind was his body could still sense its imminent demise and it responded accordingly. The juxtaposition of this calming and excited state thrilled him unlike any experience before. The water crashed into him. It was loader than he expected and his skin rang out in stinging song.

The fluid enveloped him hungrily. His momentum carried him down well below where any light could reach. Despite the darkness the water was still warm. The heartbeat was no longer inside him, but echoed all around him and he found he could breathe. The combination of the rhythmic beat and the embrace of the warm water soothed and relaxed him. He was safe here. He was home.

The heartbeat picked up its tempo. The fluid constricted around him pushing him upward. He struggled against it, the constriction strengthening around him. The warmth was now uncomfortable and he found it difficult to breathe. Something pulled on his scalp ripping out hair. Erik pushed against his captor toward the source of the pain. Whatever it was pulling on his hair seemed to want to help him. A pinprick of light appeared above him. Erik strained to reach it. With each painful tug at his scalp he pushed against his tormentor.

Everything was hazy when he opened his eyes and the world came back into focus. He was lying in the training pen with Istan standing over him. The proud smile of a father painted on his face. Erik felt a painful tug on his scalp.

“Ow!” he yelped jerking his hands to his head. Erik’s hands bumped into something warm, soft and furry. Turning while he sat, Erik found himself staring into the eyes of a young, light gray colt, his darker foal coat still covered parts of his body and remained patchy around his muzzle. The colt was trying to use his hair as his own personal pasture.

“Erik, I would like to introduce you to your brother, Ghost,” Istan said.

Erik had never had a brother. What Istan had whispered to him before his hallucinations was correct. The closeness he felt toward the horse was unlike any other tie he had with any other being. Erik reached up and scratched his brother on his nose.

“How’s Lawt doing?”

“Your friend is doing well.” Istan said. “I find it amazing how the colts match themselves so well with their brothers sometimes. The only other person I could imagine his colt belonging to is Gavin.”

Erik looked over at Lawt. A swarm of people surrounded him and Gavin blocking Erik’s view of his friend’s new brother. An opening made itself present briefly. The short glance he got through the crack in the throng gave Erik a view of large colt, which Lawt was busy scratching.

“His colt is so much older than mine.” Erik said astounded.

“These horses are all weanlings Erik. His horse is just large, astonishing because there are no bone or joint deformities. If the colt continues to grow at the pace it’s growing, he will match Gavin’s Koda in a year.”

“You know that’s the first time I have heard his name.” Erik smiled. “You and Gavin have been so busy with me and Lawt that you haven’t even introduced us politely to your brothers.” The bond Erik was feeling with Ghost was giving him a newfound respect for these horses.

“I am sorry. My brother Magnus will be most excited to see Ghost. In a way he is as much his foal as you are mine.” The smile on Istan’s face never left. If someone stepped up and punched him in the ribs he would still have the broad, stupid grin.

After the throng of congratulators moved on the class was left standing in the pen with their sires and Rovan. Erik moved over to Lawt to look upon his friend and his new horse.

“It seems that yours was the most impressive pick of the afternoon,” Erik said, looking down at Lawt’s horse. A dark mane framed a rich brown foal coat. Hints of red highlights peaked its way through from below. Erik still could not believe this horse was a weanling. He looked more than a year old.

“Erik, this is amazing. Lawt has not felt such belonging. Titan is an amazing brother to have.” Lawt beamed.

“Congratulations to all of you!” Rovan yelled to his class. “The first part of The Union of Brothers is complete. Let us step in to the stable and complete the union.”

All the trainee’s sires began to move the newfound brothers into the stable. Istan and Gavin walked side by side boasting with Ghost and Titan flanking them. Erik and Lawt followed close behind. Inside the stable the group formed a semi-circle around a table. On the table sat a mortar and pestle for each trainee. The sires handed the care of the new mounts to the class and wordlessly moved to the table.

Rovan placed himself behind the table, a pouch in each hand. “You have experienced the union of family with your brothers,” he said in rote, his voice echoing through the rafters. “Now you will undergo the union of the spirit.” Each sire picked up a mortar and pestle.

Rovan reached into the first pouch and pulled out a handful of leaves. “These represent the bond of nature, a fragile piece of a grand encompassing whole.” The sires all knelt and held out their mortars for an offering and Rovan placed a leaf in each. His hand came out of the next pouch covered in writhing, yellow and green caterpillars. “These represent the will of man. Disgusting in its primitiveness but, allowing time to mature and grow, will become a beautiful part of nature.” He placed a squirming caterpillar in each bowl.

The sires stood raising their pestles into the air. As one they smashed the smooth stone hard into their mixing bowls. The crunching of leaves and grubs filled the air. “We must now take essence from those who will be united.”

Each sire turned and faced their foal drawing a blade. Istan’s face held no emotion when he grabbed Erik by the forearm. Before Erik could react Istan’s blade drew a crimson line down Erik’s arm. Erik bit his lip to keep from screaming. Blood poured out of the wound flowing in rivers down his arm and Istan caught the dripping blood with the bowl. The crimson liquid mixed with the paste of leaves and grub. When the small bowl was halfway filled Erik’s sire wrapped a white cloth on Erik’s arm.

The sires all turned on the young horses. “Hold your brothers,” Rovan commanded.

Erik knelt down by Ghost and grabbed his brother about the neck. The slash used to cut into Ghost’s leg was as quick as the one used on Erik. The stable erupted in screaming colts. Erik struggled to hold his brother close and comfort him. Squealing and jumping, Ghost’s hooves landed on Erik’s thigh crushing it. Again the blood flowed easily. Istan, this time, used the lip of the mortar to scrape against the horses leg to collect the blood. He handed Erik another white bandage.

Looking over at Lawt Erik had to suppress a laugh. Gavin was performing the ritual exactly like Istan. When the large Cavalier had sliced Titan, the large horses bucking and screaming ceased with one of its hooves crushing Lawt’s hand. Instead of trying to extract his hand from below the large colt, Lawt was trying to bandage the horse with one hand, a painful expression on his face.

The Cavaliers all gathered around the table again waiting upon Rovan to continue with the ritual. Rovan produced a small pewter flask. “This is the spirit united.” He spoke pouring one drop into the first bowl. Steam rose from the mixture and an acrid smell overran the normal smell of bedding and horse permeating the stable. Over each bowl he spoke those words, “This is the spirit united.” Each time only one drop entered each bowl.

“You must feed Ghost first. The liquid placed into the mixture will fool the horse and make the blood palatable for him. Then you must partake.” Istan handed the bowl to Erik.

Erik looked down into the gray stone bowl. Whatever Rovan had placed into the bowls had caused the mixture to bubble as if boiling. The red blood had turned black and every once in a while Erik could see bits of leaf or caterpillar roll over the top. The smell emanating from the bowl was too strong for Erik to keep under his face for long.

He held the concoction under Ghost’s muzzle. The horse sniffed at the bowl. Gingerly his lips pressed against the inside of the bowl, his tongue probing into the liquid. The horses head shot up. The eyes opened wide and rolled back showing white more than color. The colts bucked and struggled to be free from whatever was holding them. “Let them go!” Rovan shouted.

As one the young horses ran out of the stable into the open pen. Erik stood watching, stunned at what had occurred. “It is your turn,” Istan said to Erik.

Erik looked back into the bowl. A swirling line of spittle was mixing itself into the black fluid. Holding his breath and closing his eyes Erik poured the foul brew into his mouth. The metallic taste of blood he expected hid behind a potent sweet, smoky taste. It burned. His tongue was on fire. The back of his mouth felt like a whole had melted in it. His nose was steaming and his eyes watered.

A jolting sensation slammed into his head. He held his hands up to his temples to keep his brain from exploding. He was on his knees screaming while at the same time he was outside running, scared. His head pounded with pressure from two minds. He could feel how scared Ghost was. He was scared as well. The two minds seemed to be pitting their emotions against each other to see who was stronger, while at the same time feeding upon each other. Fear quickly became terror and still the emotions grew. The emotions were too much for him to contain. Erik stood and ran as hard as he could to escape the torturous struggle inside his head.

A sharp blow struck him on the head. The union was so complete Erik was unsure which of them had been injured. Even the fact Erik was on his back did not clarify the situation for him. “Fight the union!” Istan yelled at him. “Separate yourself from your brother!”

Erik thought he had been fighting the union. He tried to push his mind away from Ghost’s to no avail. He needed to change tactics. It was tough to think. His heart pounded hard in his chest. The terror consumed him framing his vision in crimson.

An idea occurred to him. Istan told him to separate himself. Mentally he formed the image of a wall and wedged the image between the two consciences. Pushing the wall through was tedious but the partition snapped into place. The emotions no longer spurred each other. Without its rival emotion to egg on his the fear became manageable. Erik took a deep calming breath. He was in control. His head still hurt. It must have been him that hit his head. His hand felt a sensitive lump forming at his temple.