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“I never liked Barristae.” Vindrake’s mind spun, attempting to fabricate an account with enough truth to pass undetected by the judge. “But I mustn’t put off meeting with Father. I wouldn’t want him to learn of my return from someone else.”
Vindrake felt Alleraen’s hand on his arm. “Listen, Vindrake…”
Vindrake eyed his brother with suspicion. Although his father favored ‘Vindrake’ over his given name, Alleraen had always insisted on using the formal name. He only called him Vindrake when he wanted a favor.
“… I think this new gift has caused some other change in you. Something about you simply doesn’t feel right. Let me help you get rid of the gift—surely there’s a way to do it.”
“I knew you’d be jealous when you learned I’d surpassed you.” Vindrake stripped off his filthy traveling shirt. “You can help by letting me borrow a clean shirt before I go speak with Father.”
“I’m not jealous, Drakeon. I’m truly trying to help.” Alleraen rummaged through his trunk. “Here’s a shirt I can lend you, assuming it fits.” He held the shirt out, but froze in place, his mouth dropping open. “What’s that on your chest? When did you get a tattoo? Father will be furious when he sees it.”
Vindrake gave a casual glance downward toward his chest, recoiling at the image that greeted him. Struggling to maintain his composure, he wondered exactly when and how the hideous monster, the size of two hands, had appeared on his skin. Only with fierce control did he resist the intense urge to scratch the image off. Vindrake was certain his brother could hear his heart beating, so loud was the clatter it made inside his ribcage.
“I got a tattoo in Glaenshire.” His lying skills, though dismal in the past, seemed to be improving dramatically.
“All the scholars at the Craedenza wear tattoos.”
Alleraen moved closer, bending to study the image. “But Drakeon, what a dreadful tattoo. It has six horns and ghastly eyes. It looks quite evil. I must admit, the detail is amazing, but why would you choose such an awful creature?”
“Never mind, Alleraen.” Vindrake snatched the shirt from his brother’s fingers and slipped it over his head, fastening the ties tightly to protect his chest from accidental exposure.
*****
“Father, you’re squeezing so hard I can’t breathe,” Vindrake jested, returning the embrace with heartfelt fervor.
“You can’t understand because you aren’t a father yet. But the thought of losing your son is the worst possible feeling. I didn’t lose hope until the last fortnight. All this time I could still sense your lifeblood. But when I couldn’t feel…” Vinnasae’s voice faltered, and his hold tightened. “I thought you were dead, Vindrake; I couldn’t bear it.”
“I’m so sorry, Father. I didn’t want you to worry, but I had an undertaking. Do you understand? I had to go. I had to look for the answers I sought. And I was successful, Father. I did what no man has done in centuries. I interpreted the scroll of Maladorn and deciphered the path to increasing my gifting.”
Vindrake felt his father stiffen in his arms. “You disobeyed me? You traveled to the Craedenza to study some archaic writings? Risking your life for no good reason?”
“There was no harm done, Father. And now I have the gift of strength. Let me show you what I can do.”
“You are the next Water Clan leader. Your life is not your own to risk as you see fit. Your life belongs to Water Clan.”
Vindrake fought to subdue his anger. “I only did what was best for Water Clan. Our people deserve a leader with adequate gifts to fulfill the role. With my gift of strength—”
“You had adequate gifts. You had the gifts God granted you when He chose you by birth as leader of Water Clan. Are you implying God made a mistake when He bestowed your gifts?”
“No, I’m saying He gave me the gift of language knowing I could use this gift to obtain more gifts. I tried to tell you before, but you wouldn’t listen.”
“It is you who would not listen. I already forbade you from pursuing this foolish course of action, and you ignored my command. What am I to do now? Is Water Clan to have a leader who does not believe in authority?”
“What are you saying, Father?”
“I believe, Drakeon, your father is stating the obvious.” Barristae, heretofore silent, stepped between them, sporting a greasy smile that stretched from ear to ear. “By flaunting the command of the current Water Clan leader, you have forsaken your future succession.”
“No! You’ve always been against me, Barristae! I’ve heard your snide remarks that Alleraen should be clan leader.”
“Barristae, is this true?” Vinnasae’s jaw tightened as he turned his ire toward his chief judge.
“Someone else made the suggestion, Vinnasae—you know I cannot lie—and I defended Drakeon’s status, stating he was certainly chosen by God. Unless there could be some question of parentage, in which case Alleraen would be the rightful leader.”
“What are you implying, Barristae?”
“Only that the major gifts are typically passed from parent to child. There were some who questioned Drakeon’s legitimacy before he disappeared. But the fact you could sense his lifeblood after his departure has removed all doubt.” Barristae tilted his head as he spoke, his half smile reeking of condescension.
“I’m outraged you would even consider the possibility, Barristae! You are not only my chief judge; I thought you were a true friend.”
