The Blood Temple: Chapter 8 and Chapter 9 and Chapter 10

Galwin watched a guard move past his cell with little interest, but it was better than doing nothing and the rats no longer came into his cell. He stretched out and yawned. It wasn’t the first time he had been in jail. He had participated in a brawl in River Circle with a sailor who had been at sea for too long and wanted to have a little fun. Unlike most port cities along the eastern shore of Nithdra, River Circle was renowned for its strict no brawling policy. Anyone anywhere within the city caught in a brawl was simply thrown in jail for a night or two.

The cell was small and damp. Bones, unsure if they were human or animal, littered the floor. Every time Galwin stepped on one with his barefoot he felt it pierce into him. Eventually he gave a grunt and swept them into a pile. Shackles hung on one wall, and Galwin was pleased to learn that he wouldn’t be put in them.

This was different and Galwin knew it. He had returned to the tavern to find the boy and throttle the little bastard for not only stealing his purse but for getting him caught up in whatever it was that he got himself tangled up in. It wasn’t a surprise really when the guards came searching for him with George Swift Blade leading the hunt.

The first night was the worse. George Swift Blade had spent almost the entire night taunting and teasing Galwin. When the old rotten and all around stale food came for the prisoners, George had a meal fit for a king sent down.

“Oh look at that venison!” He had cried out as if it were the last in all the world. “These potatoes… hmm nothing like Gertrude’s potatoes.”
Galwin simply ate his meal. It wasn’t the feast and fine wine he had pictured when he stole the man’s purse. But it could have been in worse. River Circle’s jails fed their prisoners with gruel that looked between a mix of ogre upchuck and sewer water. It was said that once you eat that, you’d never brawl in River Circle ever again.

The rats in the jails were large, more akin to their cousin mountain rats, then those typically found in jails across the world. But every time George came down to taunt and tease him, as if seeing him like this was the highlight of his day, Galwin figured he wouldn’t put it past him in buying mountain rats to torment him. He killed the rats and considered eating them but instead he took the dead bodies and tossed them down along the other cells wondering how far he could reach.
Let the other prisoners choose to eat them if they want.

On the first night he wasn’t sure if he had been alone in the jail. His cell was the first in the row of maybe twenty and didn’t get the chance to check out his neighbors. When midnight came and past he could hear the other prisoners crawling around and scratching at the stone walls. At first he thought it was more rats, but the whimpering that floated down to him told him the truth. Early the next morning he was awoken to a man in chains being carried away. He was naked from the waist up and the bruises across the man’s upper body were hard to miss. The man’s face was swollen with one eye closed. In another room not far away he could hear the torture, could almost feel it across his own body with each dull thud. Galwin tried to block the sound out and for a time he did. He had been entertaining a particularly large rat, Galwin was sure it was a baby mountain rat as the thing had already reached the size of a small cat, and he had forgotten all about the poor prisoner. That is until he screamed that could make even the most hardened soldier wince. Galwin watched helplessly as the man was dragged back into his cell, the way the guards laughed or had a smirk on their face.

The rest of the week had been filled with nothing of interest. He wondered if the guards would take him to that room to beat the snot out of him. Every time a guard paused at his cell his heart would race and his skin felt extra sensitive on his touch. But the guards always moved on examining the other prisoners. Galwin would simply slump against the back wall and run his hand over the mountain rat that had almost become a friend. In a place like this you couldn’t be picky with who you chose to be friends with.

Peter, Galwin had named the rat, easily slid through the bars of the cell. Hanging in its mouth was a small loaf of bread. Galwin smiled and patted Peter on the head and broke the loaf in half and offered the slightly smaller piece to the rat. The bread was fresh and still warm. As he nibbled at it like a rat, savoring every bit, he could hear George’s voice shouting in the distance.

“As long as you don’t take my prisoner that’s fine!” George shouted. Galwin pictured the man flustered with his face shining an unflattering shade of red.

“I don’t care what the orders are, Galwin is mine!” George continued after a minute. He wished he could hear the other side of the conversation but could guess easily enough. It wasn’t an uncommon practice to sell prisoners as slaves. Some went off to mines far away in distant lands, some were given to large plantations, and whatever else the buyer decides. Galwin didn’t like the idea of slavery, but like many things he didn’t care enough to do anything about it. It wasn’t his problem and injustices of the world were easier to ignore when you didn’t have to see it. But now, with Peter sleeping soundly in his lap, it affected him.

“We might not even choose him. So be a good male and do what your told.” A female voice said. Galwin thought it was an odd thing to say. He had heard of only a few small secluded villages where females were superior. They were rare, and surely a city like Narrow City wasn’t one of them. Considering the fact that Galwin was stopping a Captain of the Guard from raping some poor girl, it seemed even more unlikely.

“Maybe it’s you who should be remembering their place in the world.” George shouted as he entered the cell block. Galwin looked towards the door from his cell and smiled. The female, whoever she was, had slapped George across the face. God I hope they pick him, being a slave to someone as beautiful and fearless wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Galwin smiled at the thought.

“Which one is Galwin?” The female asked.

Galwin thought of calling out to her then, just to piss George off, but then he saw her more closely. Her hair was black and tied back; her grey eyes appeared to be cold and lifeless. She held herself with the air of superiority. What caught Galwin’s attention was her clothing. She was wearing long red robes with black designs swirling around her figure and she was casually twirling a wand in her fingers.

“Do not make me ask you twice.” Her voice was sharp and grated on Galwin’s skin.

“The first one,” George grumbled.
The female walked over and slid her wand into her belt and folded her arms across her chest. Galwin stared right back into her grey eyes wondering if life would be better served in this prison then with her. Either way he was screwed Galwin mused.

“I’ll take him.” She said glancing over her shoulder. George unsheathed his sword, the blade glowing a fierce red. “You would draw your weapon to the one who gave it to you?” The female shrugged as if bored and looked back down at Galwin. George slumped his shoulders in defeat. Galwin simply scratched the back of Peters ear all without breaking eye contact. “You may call me Sister Amber.”

Galwin’s stoic face faltered for a second, but if the Priestess had noticed she didn’t give on. A Priestess! Perhaps she was just giving George a show and planned to release the prisoners she buys. Galwin smiled as Amber left. “Well Peter looks like we are going.” His words were cut off at Amber’s cold merciless laugh as she passed the cell with the tortured prisoner. No one could act like that in the face of such brutality.

“That purple is a good color on a male, wouldn’t you agree Galwin?” Amber said further down the cells.

“If you would prefer I could give this bastard and his damned rat that color.” George cracked his knuckles.

“How barbaric… you males can’t even stick together.” Amber called back. “How pitiful.” A moment later a scream of outrage came from her. Galwin poked his head out through the bars and looked down. Amber was down on her knees crying. She then burst into action pulling her wand out and pointing it at George’s chest.

“Watch where you point that thing.” George’s hand moved to shove it away but was stopped at Amber’s cold stare that blazed with promises of tortures beyond comprehension.

“How dare you allow a female to die!” Amber’s quick hand slapped George on the face twice before he realized what had happened. “What was she even doing in here?”

“She couldn’t pay her debt.” George shrugged.

“So you let her die?” Amber blinked away her tears, and Galwin slumped back confused. How could anyone go from heartless to compassionate in such a short time frame. “You should have contacted the Blood Temple!”

“Wait she was a Sister of Blood?” George whispered, “I didn’t know! I swear!” Smack. Smack. Amber slapped him twice again and was now forcing the wand so tightly into the man’s chest as it seemed to Galwin that she was trying to see how much pressure it would take to shove it through the burly man.

“It does not matter!” She screamed. “If I find out you have imprisoned anymore females I will have your head.” Amber grabbed the man by the crotch and tightened her grip. “Is that clear?” George nodded and whimpered as Amber let go. “I was only here for a couple prisoners. But now I want them all.”

“You can’t do that!” George shouted and flinched. His hand went down to his groin to shield any further attack on his manhood. Amber glanced at him and left the cell block.

“Well our time together has been fun.” Galwin said as he stood up. He leaned against the bars and just smiled. In truth Galwin was scared and more than ever before promised himself that he would kill the boy who got him into this mess.

“I can’t think of a better punishment for the likes of you.” George smirked and turned to leave.

“I wonder what Sister Amber would think of the reasons as to why I am in here…” Galwin let the threat hang in the air. George threw back his shoulders and walked out of the room leaving Galwin to smile at the thought. He had no intentions of telling the Priestess. It was a perfect weapon that he might need later and if not, it would be fun to hold it over him anyways.

When Amber left the city Galwin was among ten prisoners to leave Narrow City. Both their hands and feet were shackled together. He had expected to be taken to a local temple and when they reached towards the gate he figured they would be part of a caravan. Some people searched prisons all around the countryside looking for the perfect slave. When they left the gates Galwin was puzzled. No wagons or carriages were waiting for them and there were no horses. Amber moved forwards and went right into the Narrow Wood Forrest. Galwin bumped into the man standing in front of him, who had stopped when he realized what was going on. Amber quickly yanked on the chain leash and the halted man stumbled forwards and continued to walk.

Galwin wondered if he would indeed get that werewolf. But Galwin knew if such an encounter came, he would be the one dead and the werewolf would be having bragging rights.

The prisoners were led deep within the Narrow Wood Forrest, further then Galwin had even thought possible. At first Galwin thought they were just stopping at some ruins. Stone pillars that were crumbling, from an age long past, stood as silent sentries on either side of the path leading to the Temple. The Temple itself was small and made out of stone with vines and other plant life thriving around the temple. The flowers on the vines were all red blood, as if they had been dyed with real blood.

Standing in front of the temple were four more priestesses in similar robes. Some were black with red swirling patterns, while others were red with black swirling patterns. Flanking the priestesses on either side were male guards armed for battle.

Amber walked towards the one in the middle and kissed her on either cheek and bowed low. “Greetings Sister Mordana.” Mordana didn’t smile.

“I thought I told you we only wanted a few.” Mordana eyed the prisoners with a look of distain.

“Forgive me Sister Mordana but I fear that we need to remind Narrow City of who is in charge. While visiting the prison I saw a female dead in one of the cells.” Amber knelt down before Mordana and bowed her head. “They were having too much fun with the male prisoners and I shudder to think what they did to the girl. So I took it upon myself to steal away their pleasure. Forgive me.”

“Very well, I will deal with it tomorrow.” Mordana placed a hand on Amber’s shoulder. She then walked towards the prisoners and spent a few moments examining them. When she turned to Galwin, a flicker of recognition flashed across her eyes but then moved onto the next in line.

“Sister Katherine which one do you want?” Mordana said when she returned to the four women. Galwin looked to see who Katherine was and his mouth dropped open. A blonde girl who had been standing next to Mordana moved forward. She looked different now. She wore black robe and her blonde hair, clean and shining bright in the afternoon sun, was draped over her shoulder on one side. There was no doubt in Galwin’s mind. He had saved her from George.

Like Mordana, Katherine examined each prisoner. When she finally came to Galwin and paused. Galwin smiled wanting to let her know it was him. But if she had recognized him she didn’t show and moved onto the next in line. When her examination was done she pointed to Galwin.

“I think he will suit me nicely.” She nodded towards Amber to release the man into her care.

“I was thinking of having that one myself.” Amber said, anger edging her voice.

“Then you will have to pick a different one and remember who you address.” Katherine spun on her heels and left towards the door to the temple. “Bring him to my room immediately, after a week I have been lonely.” She disappeared into the temple leaving Amber fuming silently.


Katherine broke into a run when she entered the Temple. She ran down the corridors and down several flights of stairs to reach her room. She threw open the door and fell back against the door. Why was he here? She asked herself as she stood up and walked towards the door. She wanted to forget that day, the day she was at her weakest. She had prayed for strength and had received it, now she was forced to relive that day.

Ten minutes later there was a knocking on her door. She straightened out her hair and robes and then opened. Amber was standing there with the man, her rescuer, standing behind her. She gave a curt nod and walked away. Katherine watched her leave. She would probably pay dearly for taking the slave from her. But she had to know.

“What’s your name?” Katherine asked as she sat on the foot of her bed. He looked around for a moment for a place to sit and then shrugged and continued to stand.

“Vorloru, Galwin Vorloru.” Galwin said. “But you can just call me Galwin.” He was grinning now. Katherine stood up and slapped him across the face. If he felt pain he didn’t show it, and that only made her blood boil more. She returned to her seat on the bed and stared at the man.

“Galwin…” Katherine whispered the name. She fell backwards on her bed and scooted up to lay her head on the pillow. She wanted to curl under her covers and wake up so that she could start the day over. She felt the bed depress around her and she froze. When his hands touched her stomach she bolted upright and shoved Galwin away. He tumbled from the bed landing on his rump.

“What the hell are you doing?” She screamed. Images of Serena walking up a taverns stairs flashed in her mind. “Did I say you could do that?”

“But I thought…” Galwin started to say but was caught off.

“What on earth did I do to suggest I wanted that?” Katherine pulled her legs to her body and hugged them.

“You said…” Galwin started to say again but Katherine silenced him with her hand.

“Get out!” Katherine whimpered, “just… go.” Katherine pressed her face into her knees and cried. She didn’t hear Galwin leave or the apology he said. She was consumed by her thoughts. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to kill them all for making her feel weak. She eventually curled under her covers and fell asleep.

Galwin closed the door behind him. He replayed the scene in front of the temple over and over. Wasn’t that what she was hinting at? He wasn’t sure why she was alone for a week and came to the conclusion her former slave had died. He stood in front of her door for a long time; he can hear her soft cries. His stomach growled then and he shrugged. There was nothing he can do now, except maybe get a bit to eat.

He wandered the corridors for a long time. The first thing he really noticed was that the deeper he went the more bones and bowls of red substance, which he guessed was blood. Slave Blood? He wondered as he passed on particularly large bowl.They appeared endless and branched off in several places. It became obvious that the Temple on the surface was misleading. While some rooms were up there, but he figured the bulk of the temple was under ground. He went deeper underground, taking every staircase he could. He was wondering if there would ever be an end to it all or if he was just going in circles. He had heard of powerful magic spells where you could run down the same hallway over and over. You entered through one door and then left through another but you always end up where you started. One giant continues loop.

After awhile Galwin gave up. He would have been lost, except he had left a trail of bread crumbs soon after leaving. He hadn’t finished his half of the loaf of bread and had tucked it away figuring he might be needing it later to make his next meal more pleasant. He back tracked and looked for where he had dropped the crumbs. When he went up a dozen flight of stairs he lost the trail, but he remembered the route back from there. Just one more flight of stairs and he would come to the large bowl of blood.

He stopped in front of Katherine’s door and considered knocking. The little adventure into the temple had taken his mind off of it. He tossed one of the bread crumbs into his mouth and slowly chewed. He had never been good with the ladies. All of his relationships were short as he preferred to be alone on the road to the next town or city. Instead of knocking he sat down across the door and stared at it.

Andy sat on the other end of the table. He ignored the map, a map of Narrow City and the surrounding area, and looked ahead towards the King. The preparation on the assault on the city was halted when King Charles launched a devastating attack on a Lotorian city near the border called Easthaven. It wasn’t a surprise to Andy, the city was only several leagues from the border. Andy figured it was the danger of allowing friendship between two countries to grow as Dransik and Nithdra had shared. Cities were built along the border without fear and with promised trade being increased. The city in question was one of three major trading posts between the two nations, with Easthaven being the most prominent of the three.

“Surely you saw this coming?” Andy asked. He studied the King’s reaction. His face, grim since the news had arrived earlier that week, was now edged with promises of painful deaths to any who questioned him. Andy wasn’t concerned and few threats like those rarely worked on the boy.

The king nodded. “It’s not so much that they attacked the city but in the manner of which they did.”

Andy’s interest piqued. Andy hid his interest behind the mask of boredom. He had perfected the act over the years. Never let them know you’re interested and maybe they just might pay a bit of more for information.

“There are reports of demons or some other unnatural beasts.” The King pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes and rubbed. “I had hoped that King Charles wouldn’t have openly used the Blood Temple’s support so soon. King. He is no King, he is a puppet. He disgraces the very title by allowing such evil to pull his strings. No. If I am to conquer the Blood Temple, then it will to free a good friend.” King Lotor interlocked his fingers and leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. He sat like that for a long time.

There came a loud knock at the door and when King Lotor didn’t seem to notice, Andy got off his chair and opened the door. A General John was standing, his grim face told Andy more then he wanted to know. Andy moved out of the way and watched as the General whispered something into the King’s ear. Andy smiled, not offended that he wasn’t included in the message. He knew that he would be told soon enough one way or another.

“What?” King Lotor jumped from his chair and grabbed General John by the neck and forcing him against the wall. The general didn’t resist as he was slammed against the wall. Andy’s eyes popped wide. “What do you mean hell hounds are running loose within the countryside?” At the mention of hell hounds Andy shuddered. He hated Hell Hounds more than anything else.

“My Lord I have dispatched several units into the reported sightings. We will send the beasts back to hell.” General John said after King Lotor had released his throat. “This could just be a coincidence…”

“Coincidence?” King Lotor laughed at the word. “No, this is the world of the Order of Blood. Hell Hounds do not just go running loose. Not after other hell creatures have been spotted as allies to Nithdrian Solders. Continue with the evacuation of the other two trading posts along the border. Gather your legion John, you are going to Narrow City.” King Lotor dismissed the man with a wave of his hand. He walked over towards the map and slammed his fist down on the table. The wood cracked under the force and Andy considered maybe he should disappear for awhile. As if reading his mind, Lotor spoke again. “What have you done?”

“I honestly have no clue what you are talking about.” Andy spoke truthfully. He hadn’t a clue what the angered king was talking about. He had done his job loyally, more loyally then he ever expected he would.

“I know that you are in contact with one of the Sisters of Blood.” The King said bluntly, sending Andy back on his heels.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Andy said bringing up his small hand to scratch his head trying to fake innocence. The King would send him to the gallows if he knew the truth about who his mother is. An odd sight that would be, a boy no older than ten sentenced to death. Andy shrugged the thought away, why on earth would he fear death?

“Do not lie to me.” Lotor said, and then mumbled a few words under his breath. The amulet tucked under Andy’s shirt burned. He quickly pulled the amulet over his head and dropped in on the table. The small metal amulet was bright orange as if it had been in a blacksmith’s forge. Wisps of smoke swirled from the wooden table.

“I was wondering what that was for.” Andy mumbled as he rubbed his chest.

“Now you know.” Lotor said calmly, “now why are you in contact with one of the Sisters of Blood?”
Still rubbing his chest he considered his next words carefully. “Because I am a Grimling.” Andy said bluntly. What was the point of hiding it anymore? King Lotor stood up so fast he knocked over his chair and nearly tripped over it.

“A servant of the underworld?” King Lotor spat. “Has your friendship, your information, all of it been a lie? Were you sent here by King Charles or the Blood Temple?” King Lotor’s eyes narrowed as he took a steady step forward and with an even steadier voice he said, “Are you serving that whore of a goddess?”

Andy blinked and shrugged, which was the worst thing he could have done. In a rush King Lotor threw the table that was between them and grabbed Andy by the throat and slammed him against the wall. Unlike General John, who could physically resist the King but chose not to, Andy couldn’t but tried anyways. He dug his dirty finger nails into the King’s flesh trying to pry the hand away.

“All you need to know is this.” Andy said calmly after realizing he had no hope of winning, at least not without resorting to what magic he could wield. “I want the destruction of the Blood Temple more then you can possibly imagine. I want to see the deaths of the Sister’s of Blood.” Andy paused and wondered if he should even be saying this. He knew Mother would not approve. He shrugged. What could it hurt? “All you need to know is that I am your biggest ally in this.” Seemingly satisfied King Lotor dropped him to the ground.

“Fine, but if my sources tell me you are in contact with anyone relating to the Blood Temple you will be begging for mercy.” King Lotor left the room leaving a rattled Grimling on the floor.

Andy leaned against the wall and wondered about what the truth of what he is would affect their relationship. When you learned someone you know is a Grimling, it’s something you don’t easily forget. In truth it didn’t matter what King Lotor threaten to do, or actually do, to him. He was a grimling and couldn’t refuse his masters or mistress, or Mother Goddess. A grimling was a servant of the underworld and cursed to serve those in the underworld. He was lucky enough to have gotten away with so much on the physical world.