To Bind in Blood

Chapter 1

Lord General Jurion Calustus watched a line of red appear as the knife pulled across his palm. He barely felt the sting of the broken skin, barely registered what he should be feeling. The reek of the bloodbinder's cleansing solution and the quietness of the room pressed in around him, clogging his senses. From the corner of his eye he saw his father and sister standing at the edge of the sparsely-decorated room, bearing witness to the event. His father leaned heavily upon his sister, having summoned up just enough energy to come.

The fire in the corner snapped and popped. Pierrne lifted the blade from Jurion's palm and wiped it on a clean cloth, the blood deep and dark against the bright white fabric. "Your hand, please," he said, extending a hand to the young woman standing on the other side of the small stand. Dressed in the typical leathers of a Quellen soldier or guard, she cut somewhat of a formidable figure. It was not because of her height or stature or even the scars on her face—she was slender but strong in appearance, and the scars were uncommon—it was the stoicness with which she offered her hand to Pierrne that made Jurion wonder.

"You are sure about this?" Jurion asked, waiting for her to meet his gaze. He was hardly sure of this himself, and he was not the one binding his life in service to someone he barely knew.

Her head did that slight turn to the left in what he suspected was an unintentional attempt to shield that half of her face. A series of scars stretched from her left temple and barely skirted her eye, winding down her cheek and neck to disappear beneath the collar of her leathers. To the average person it was startling, but fascinating at the same time; he had no doubt she disliked the attention it brought.

"I am sure, my lord." Her reply was quiet but held no trace of doubt or hesitance.

"You served my brother well as his bloodbound servant," Jurion said. "You are free now—this procedure is not necessary if you do not wish it."

She held out her open hand to him, blood pooling in her palm. "I have not changed my mind, my lord."

Perhaps not, but was this what he wanted? He refused to look at his father and sister. The decision is yours, he knew his father would say. Yours and hers. But mostly hers.

"Lord General?" Pierrne said, questioning, prompting.

Jurion took Wrell Draekon's offered hand in his own, the warm liquid dripping from their fingers to the bowl on the small stand between them as the blood mingled between their palms. Pierrne placed his hands on top of theirs. He looked to each of them, seeking assurance one last time. A bloodbind was a commitment not easily undone.

Jurion gave his cousin a nod.

He felt it, then, in that next moment. The surge of heat, yet ice at the same time. It both strengthened and weakened him, exhausting and empowering in its effects. Wrell Draekon's blood was flowing through his veins, and his through hers. She had bound herself to him like a servant, connected by blood, as she had done for his brother.

Pierrne removed his hands from theirs. His forehead glistened, strands of dark brown hair clinging to his temples. "It is done."

Jurion expected to feel something else when he released Draekon's hand, but instead he felt nothing. He wondered at this at first, then realized it was how it should be. The invisible strings that tied his new bloodbound servant to him were one-way.

She, however, looked pale as she cradled her bleeding hand in front of her. Jurion caught Pierrne's eye, a subtle request for him to treat the wound. As Lord General, future Great Lord, and Draekon's new bloodbound master, Jurion had every right to be seen to first. But the woman in front of him did not look well, and he could barely feel anything anyway.