Kavel Book 1 - Bloodmoon Born - Prologue Part 3

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Kavel Book 1 - Bloodmoon Born - Prologue Part 3

Previous Chapter: Prologue Part 2.

From the Annuals of Kavel Bloodmoon as told by WolfGrimDark. For more great stories on Nexus check out the Nexus Writers List.

Kavel’s stories in PDF format.

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Kolfinna and Bron departed the ship late the following afternoon. The captain personally escorted them to the docks and wished the pair well. Bron fidgeted nervously, his sharp eyes scanning everywhere for signs of trouble, while Kolfinna handed the Captain a note for Tivela.

“If I could beg one more favor of you Captain. A note for Mistress Tivela to let her know we arrived safely and that my son Kavel has been born.”

Along with the note she gave the captain a gold Septum for his trouble, which he refused. “I do not know your story, nor do I wish to, but I suspect you will need that gold far more than I do. Tivela will be very pleased to know I helped you arrive safely and her favor is all the payment I need.”

Bron tugged on his sisters sleeve and whispered, “Hurry up Kol. I do not like this place. I feel like everyone is watching us.”

Kolfinna nodded farewell to the captain and then let her brother lead her off the docks to the city entrance. Kavel squirmed in her arms, his tiny fists clenched and his face wrinkled up as if he might cry. Kolfinna rocked him gently as she whispered a small sleep charm to keep him quiet. She would need to make a papoose soon. Only two days old and already eleven pounds; her instincts told her he would be a strong one.

“You’re going to be a mighty warrior someday my Van.” She whispered. While greatly honored that Hircine had given her son a Princely name she knew in her heart he would always be her Van. Her hope.

Bron nudged her and she focused on her surroundings. They were waiting in line to be checked in by the guards before entering the city.

“Papers please.” The bored guard said to Tivela’s clerk Raina who, along with her assistant, had accompanied them aboard the ship. Tivela had provided documents identifying the four of them as her employees.

Kolfinna squeezed her brothers hand as the guards stamped their papers and they were allowed into the city proper. As they did neither of them noticed the pair of dark eyes that watched them from a distance.

…



A soft snow had started to fall as dawn’s pale light struggled, and failed, to break through the morning cloud cover. Raina stood with them while the carriage driver got his two horses hitched up. They had only stayed the one night in Windhelm. They had no idea if the Hand was still after them but they wanted to be well away from the city just in case.So while they remained hidden away in Tivela’s warehouse, Raina and her assistant had picked up supplies and made the travel arrangements.

“Are you sure you won’t stay with us? There is plenty of work to do and Kolfinna’s baby would be safe within the city walls.” Raina asked Bron, her eyes scanning his youthful and well-muscled body with sultry eyes indicating there was another offer hidden behind her words.

Grinning, the slightly blushing Bron gave a self-conscious flex of his broad shoulders and reluctantly declined, “We really do appreciate your offer, and all the help Tivela has provided, but someone is expecting us and he is not the type of person you want to disappoint.”

Raina gave a cute little pout but nodded. She gave Bron an overly long hug, one hand reaching down to give his tight buttock’s a good squeeze as she whispered, “I can see why Tivela adores you so much Bron. Be careful and I hope we meet again one day.”

She then turned to Kolfinna who was watching the whole exchange and trying hard not to roll her eyes. Raina just chuckled softly before leaning in to give her a gentle hug. She looked down at the groggy Kavel and gently touched the soft black fuzz on his head. He turned wide leaf-green eyes on her and gave a small burp.

“Oh Kolfinna, he is so adorable! I do so wish you would change your minds.” Raina said softly. Kolfinna went to reply but Raina hushed her, “I know, I know. Go then and may Mara bless you all.”

Then she was gone, running back to the city with one hand clutched to her hood to hold it on tight. Kolfinna handed Kavel up to Bron and then pulled herself into the back of the carriage. They had spent most of their gold on supplies and the carriage ride; only a couple of coins remained.

Brother and sister sat together as they watched the city of Windhelm slowly fade from distance. Neither had any idea where they were really headed. Hircine had told Kolfinna to follow the signs and they would lead them to one of his holy places. Well she hadn’t seen any definitive signs yet but she had felt a gentle tug to the south-west. Raina had given them a map of Skyrim and based on her advice they decided to travel to Whiterun. It was their hope that once there Kolfinna would be able to narrow down the search.

“Don’t worry Bron, he won’t let us down.” Kolfinna said softly as she studied her brothers worried expression. He turned and gave her a cryptic look.

“I know Kol.” Bron said, although his voice lacked conviction. “I can’t help but worry though.” He turned away from her and looked back the way they had come, his eyes ever searching through the falling snow. In a low voice he said, “The three Hand that attacked us at the lodge seemed to know who we were. I can’t help but shake the feeling the others will come after us.”

Kolfinna said nothing. She had faith in the Huntsman; while he could be harsh at times he was a Prince of his word. If they could reach the sanctuary they would be safe.

…



Nelthas was almost pleased for a change. The Silver Hand ship had made excellent time, arriving in Windhelm only one day after the siblings had landed. Upon docking Nelthas had sought out his contact who confirmed his belief that the two Berhamask survivors had been on board. Of particular interest was the news that the female had born her child. At first Nelthas wasn’t sure if that was good news or bad. In the end he decided it was bad. Pregnant she was much weaker and would have slowed their escape. With the child born she would be far more protective and dangerous.

Their spy at the docks had then led them to Tivela’s warehouse. It didn’t take long to get all the information they needed from the two clerks. When he was done getting his information he let the men enjoy what was left of Raina and her associate before having the bodies dumped in the bay.



He had a dozen hand-picked men for the mission plus the artifact from Lord Arom. He hadn’t been happy about that discovery. When he got back to the ship he had found the hideous fetish packed up and waiting for him in his room. With it was an envelope from his employer. Inside he found additional instructions for the artifact, a rough map showing where Arom suspected the siblings wore headed, and a reminder that failure was not an option. Nelthas swore under his breath as he repeated the last sentence, “Failure was not an option?” Who did that mer think he was, threatening Nelthas Dareathys like that!

A nagging suspicion in the back of his head was finally reaching consciousness at that point. He did not know who Lord Arom really was but he was no simple Altmer necromancer. When he had tried to get Kolfinna and Bron’s destination out of Raina she had gibbered madly that even the siblings didn’t seem to know. Of course by that time his knives had done so much damage she would have sworn she was a Thalmor spy if it would have stopped the pain. Yet if his employer had been able to provide a map that suggested Arom knew a lot more about what was happening than he let on. The map had the words Sacred Grotto written near the western mountains. Sacred to who? If the two werebears wore fleeing to it that could only mean the Father of Manbeasts, Prince Hircine.



No, Nelthas concluded, he didn’t like where this was leading one bit. The only thing he hated more than the Princes and the Divines was being their pawn. Yet even if what he suspected was true it didn’t change his plans for dealing with Lord Arom. No, it just meant altering his strategy.

Unconsciously his hand went to the Dwemer amulet he wore around his neck, rubbing the burnished copper metal rhythmically as his mind drifted into the past.

Nothing but darkness, violence and death had surrounded Nelthas. A product of rape his mother had sold him to slavers, wanting nothing to do with him. His first owners were brutally cruel and he had learned at an early age that the only one who cared for Nelthas was Nelthas. He remembered hearing about the Divines from the other slaves. He began to pray to them for freedom, even death, but no matter how often he did none of them ever answered. Nor, he noted, did they ever seem to answer the prayers of the other slaves. It was clear to him they were a façade. As cold and heartless as his owners, if they existed at all.

Around twelve he was sold again, only this time to a powerful lord who wanted to forge him into a cold emotionless assassin. It was then he learned the true meaning of pain as his trainers tried to break his mind so they could bind him to their masters will. It was then he turned to the Princes. He knew only bits and pieces of lore surrounding them, picked up from other slaves and overheard conversations. Yet the princes seemed no more inclined to respond than the divines had. Except for one.

His mind almost broken Nelthas had begged Boethiah for aid, the same Prince his owner worshipped. She had responded but only to laugh at him.

“Why should I aid a worthless slave?” She had asked.

He had replied, “I will pledge my soul to you if you but help me escape.”

In a mocking voice she had responded, “Your soul is weak and worthless. Make something of yourself and perhaps then I shall listen.”

He had wept after she had left, her laughter echoing in his mind. It was the last time he ever had. The Void take all gods he swore! Something in his mind did break that night but not in the way his trainers expected. Nelthas became utterly devoted to himself and no one else. If even the gods would not help him then it was clear he would have to do it himself. He would succeed or die but never again would he seek aid from Aedra or Prince.

And he had succeeded. He had pretended to be broken by acting docile and servile. He had earned their trust. And then, in the end, he had slaughtered them all. The master and his trainers. The man’s family, his guards, his slaves, all of them. Then he had left Morrowind and became the Crimson Raven. His reputation in the underworld had grown quickly and soon only the richest and most powerful could afford his fees and services. It was then that Boethiah sought him out. One night, while enjoying a goblet of warm wine after a fresh kill, she came to him in her mortal form.

“I see my little fledging has finally found his wings. You have proven your worth and so I have come to grant you the honor of becoming one of my followers.” She had whispered in a soft seductive voice as she sidled up close to him.



Nelthas was beside himself with rage, his normally cool control broken. He shoved her away and drew his ebony dagger, Soulcatcher, as he panted in anger. “You bitch. You gave me nothing when I asked for aid and now you return and expect me to kiss your princely ass?”

Full expecting to be struck down he glared at the Prince. Yet she just stood there watching him coldly, an amused smile on her lips. “Gave you nothing? I gave you everything.”

Nelthas snorted. Cryptic as always. How he hated them. He spat, “Gave me everything? I tricked my owners. I killed them all and left a river of blood behind me. I mastered the arts of assassination. I survived on my own. I became the Crimson Raven through my own sweat and blood. No one has ever helped me except me, myself, and I.”

Boethiah looked at him dismissively, “If you believe that then you are a fool and I have no use for fools.”



With that she had vanished and Nelthas had never heard from her again. Yet the encounter made him realize he had a weakness and it was one he was going to address. Over the years he became a specialist in killing mages, priests, and anything supernatural. He began collecting powerful artifacts and enchantments, one of which was the Dwemer device he wore around his neck. It had cost him his entire fortune at the time but had been worth it.

Thinking of the amulet returned his thoughts to the present and he tucked the amulet away beneath his armor.Pleasant as it was to think about taking Lord Arom down he had more pressing matters to focus on. Twice now his targets had managed to escape him. Losing them on Solstheim had been bad enough but losing them in Whiterun had infuriated him. It was getting personal now; he had a reputation to maintain.



They had had almost a day’s lead on him. He was familiar with the carriage route, since he had taken it a few times himself to the closest thing he had ever called home, the Nightgate Inn. They would approach Whiterun from the north, coming down past the Whitewatch Tower. A faster way was going south, cutting through the Uttering hills and past the Valtheim towers, notorious for bandits and the main reason the road was avoided, and then straight through the eastern plains to Whiterun.



Nelthas had pushed the horses and men brutally, arriving at the Whiterun Stables in the late afternoon with most of his men. The others he had left along the road to watch for the carriage. Posing as a small band of mercenaries looking for work he had chatted up the stable master. He gave a small sigh of relief when the man told him that the carriage was running late but should be arriving shortly. Nelthas’s plan was a simple one; his favorite kind as it meant less chance of something wrong. He and his men would keep tabs on the pair until such a time presented itself that they could kill them with no witnesses.



A few hours later Nelthas was growing very irate and a little concerned. None of his men had reported in and the carriage was now six hours overdue. Just as he was about to go scouting himself one of his men showed up. Dismounting he pulled Nelthas aside and said the carriage had finally showed up but from the south and sans passengers. When he had stopped the driver to ask about the delay the man has responded that he had been well paid by his passengers to drop them off in Riverwood. He had then hiccupped and guiltily admitted he might have stopped for a drink or two before heading back.



Swearing mightily Nelthas ordered the scout to fetch the men watching the northern road. He had to decide, and quickly, if he should head to Riverwood and try and pick up their trail or head directly to the grotto marked on Arom’s map. He wished he knew if this had been the siblings plan all along or if they were simply growing more cautious. Regardless, design or chance, they had outfoxed him once again. In the end he made the safest assumption, that they knew they were being followed and thus would actively try to throw of pursuit. That meant his best hope was to reach the grotto before them so he could plan an ambush. If what Lord Arom had told him was true things would go much easier if he prevented the siblings from gaining entry to the grotto and the protection of their patron. He glanced over at the horse carrying the Hagraven fetish. His lips twisted into a nasty smirk. Even if they did make it he would have a little surprise for them.



“By the Soulless One that s’wit Lord Arom had better pay double for this job!” Nelthas Dareathys cursed darkly as he jumped on to his horse and ordered his men to follow. A few glowered at his back, as they hadn’t had much rest or food, but none dared risk his wrath by complaining. Driving the horses hard Nelthas led the men to the south-west as he cut across the Whiterun tundra and headed towards the mountains just north of Lake Ilinalta. The siblings had out maneuvered him in Whiterun but they wouldn’t be so lucky the next time he vowed.



…





The trio had made exceptionally good time. The driver, nervous about bandit rumors, had pushed the horses extra hard. As they approached Whiterun Kolfinna felt a subtle sense of foreboding begin to grow all around her. It was like a vague itch that became more uncomfortable the harder she tried to ignore it. She knew the High Shaman could glimpse the future by studying the patterns in nature – leaves spinning in the wind, the whirls of foam in a brook, or forest debris scattered on the ground – but it was a skill she had never been taught. Yet everywhere she looked she seemed to see darkness closing in around them.



She had said nothing to Bron until she spotted the wolf. They had just come to a major crossroads and the driver had stopped to gather news from some of the local guards. Kolfinna had happened to glance along the southern road and saw the wolf preening itself near a waterfall. Kolfinna watched as the wolf got up and looked right at her. It then ran out onto the road and shot a glance back at her before speeding off to the south. The guard swore, “Would you look at that? Those scavengers are getting bolder every year!”



Yet Kolfinna knew it was a sign, a sign they wore meant to follow. It took their remaining coin and a tragic story to convince the driver to make a detour to Riverwood but they finally persuaded him. They left him drinking at the local inn while they hurried along the road to the southwest. They followed the road as it traced its way along a river until they reached its source, a large lake that lay glistening in the setting sun.



It was then she spotted the same wolf, watching them from the northern side of the river. She pointed him out to Bron who looked at her quizzically and then asked wide-eyed, “You think that is another sign from our Lord?”



Kolfinna nodded. She stretched her shoulders, the weight of the baby on her back making them stiff and sore, as she pointed to the west. “We are getting close, I can feel it.”



“Then let’s get moving. It will be growing dark soon and we should make as much of the light as we can. I don’t think I will feel comfortable until we are safe inside his protection.” Bron suggested to which Kolfinna readily agreed.

The water did not seem to deep, and it was moving at a calm pace, so the siblings removed most of their clothes and bundled everything up in their sleeping blankets. Bron, being the tallest and strongest of the two, carried both bundles while Kolfinna held Kavel over her head. For once luck seemed to be on their side and the water never went past her breasts.They rested for a moment on the other side, doing their best to dry off before donning their clothes again.



Their scout would appear every now and then as a flash of gray among the deep greens and browns of the forest. The wolf was leading them slowly upwards and soon the temperature began to drop as a light snow began to fall. As darkness and snow settled over the land, brother and sister paused for a moment to honor the beauty of the moment.

“It’s a little like home isn’t it?” Kol said softly as she stopped to check on a fussing Kavel.

“Almost better in some ways. The air smells clean and fresh, untainted by the scent of ash and sulfur of the island.” Bron agreed. “There are worse places to be exiled.”

“Someday we shall see home again Bron. We are strangers here and I do not think the people here will accept us like the Skaal of Solstheim do. Even the Dunmer have grudgingly accepted us there. Yet, for now, it seems to be our only choice. When things are safe we shall return.” Kolfinna said although to Bron’s ears it sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as she was him.

Bron scowled, his face growing angry as he remembered the carnage back at their little village. “Safe Kol? We will never be safe until we avenge our tribe. What is to prevent it from happening again? We have to make sure those killers never return.”

Kolfinna’s soft eyes met Bron’s hot gaze for a moment before turning away. She knew as a shaman she should counsel the peaceful path yet how could she when her own heart yearned to avenge the death of her tribe and her husband? Instead she merely nodded and indicated they should continue. They travelled for another hour, moving slower and slower as they did. While both could see well at night the snow and clouds soon covered the unfamiliar territory in a cloak of darkness making it dangerous to move fast. In addition Kavel had begun to cry and Kolfinna knew he needed food and changing.



When they stumbled over an old hunters campsite they decided it would be safer to make camp for the night than to risk injury travelling in the dark. The wolf had been leading them up an old trail that most likely was a pass over the mountains. Somewhere on the other side was their destination but how close Kolfinna could not say. Weariness etched their faces; the only rest they had gotten was a few snatches of sleep on the carriage ride.

So they made camp. While Kolfinna took care of Kavel, Bron laid out their beds and prepared a small dinner. A fire would have been welcome but while they had sensed no sign of pursuit they decided not to take any chances. They had no fresh meat so the only offering they could give to their Prince was some of the dried elk and salmon they had picked up in Riverwood. They placed it a few yards away from the camp while Kolfinna said a prayer of thanks. A short while later their guide appeared. The wolf sniffed the food carefully before grabbing it in his jaws and running off into the darkness.



Bron had wondered about their guide but Kolfinna had told him she sensed no otherworldly presence in the beast. Most likely, she had explained, the Huntsman had imprinted in the wolves mind where they needed to be led and a command to stay with them until its obligation was met.

Kolfinna took the first watch, wanting to spend some time with Kavel and cast a few protective charms over him. She had been doing that daily since he had been born. She knew they would do little against a serious threat but it made her feel better knowing he had some protection. When she was done she set a few frost traps around the front of the campsite. She was not powerful enough to weave a full defensive ward but she could handle this much at least. The camp was tucked into a corner made by the mountain rocks so she only had to lay down a handful to keep them protected. Exhausted from the effort she woke Bron from his sleep so he could take his turn at guard duty. Bron gave her a quick hug and helped her get tucked in with Kavel.



“Sleep well Kol.” He whispered but she had already shut her eyes and falling asleep. His face softened for a moment as he looked at little Kavel. He reached out one thick and calloused finger and touched the child’s nose tenderly in wonder. The child stirred and reached up with a tiny fist to grip his finger for a moment before letting go.

Bron stood, vowing again to see his family to safety; he would let nothing harm his sister or nephew. He was tempted to take on his beast form for guard duty but doing so put a strain on the body. More experienced shifters could hold the form for hours before they had to revert back but Bron could only manage a half hour so far. That, and concerns over alarming the locals, had kept them from travelling as werebears. Instead he summoned a small amount of change to enhance his physical senses.

…



Nelthas and his men had set up camp near the entrance to the grotto. They had arrived at dusk and conducted a quick survey of the area as the sun set. They found no tracks leading to or from the area so Nelthas had to assume they had arrived before their prey. The entrance was what appeared to be a narrow cave cut into the base of the mountain. There were a mix of bones and what looked like primitive weapons and other offerings to Hircine scattered around the ground out front. The only problem, they quickly discovered, was that the cave opening was too narrow; a skeever would have been hard pressed to make it through.



Much later that night Nelthas got restless and went to investigate the grotto again. How very intriguing Nelthas thought to himself. Had the entrance always been this narrow or had some natural event made it this way? Did the werebeasts expect it to be accessible? Surely they must or they wouldn’t be fleeing here. If what Raina had said was true they were most likely going off some legend or ancient lore. The girl, Kolfinna, was a shaman so it was also possible her magic was guiding her here. Regardless there was certainly something odd about the place. It gave him the same uneasy feeling that the hagraven fetish gave him. It stank of the Daedra and that could only mean one thing; the Princes. The final pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together and he was less than pleased with the picture being revealed.



His ponderings were interrupted when one of his scouts ran into the camp calling for him. On their way to the grotto Nelthas had noticed an old mountain path that looked like it went over the mountain. On a hunch he had sent his best scout, a Khajiit with exceptional night vision, to check it out. He motioned the feline humanoid to approach and speak.

“Commander Nelthas, this one believes they have found them. Darji was watching from a ledge that overlooked the path and heard voices, male and female. Even with this one’s night sight Darji could not make out details. But this Khajiit saw one of them working magic and its glow showed a child in its arm.” The mercenary reported.

“Could they have spotted you?” Nelthas asked, his expression cold as he stared at the Silver Hand.

The Khajiit shook his head, “This one did as you asked and did not get close. The wind was in blowing towards Darji hiding Darji’s scent.”



Nelthas dismissed him, his mind working quickly. It had to be them he knew. Should he wait till they came to him? That had been his plan. To hold off on casting the fetish until they had gotten too close to flee, although that meant tricky timing as it took a short while for the magic to act. Too soon and he would warn them away. Too late and they might have access to their beast form for a short while. While had had a dozen men he had seen what a werebear could do, let alone two of them protecting a child.

However, the biggest problem with that plan was the fact that the entrance to the grotto was out in plain sight. He and his men had no place to hide. He had hoped to set up an ambush around the grotto, possibly even inside it, but that had turned out to be impossible. Before the Khajiit had arrived his backup plan had been to hide out in the Tundra. When they spotted them near the grotto he and his men would rush them while they stood dumbfounded before the blocked entrance.



But now he had the chance to sneak up on them unawares. He could summon the power of the fetish while his men surrounded their camp, catching them off-guard and unable to use their beast form. By the time they sensed the casting it would be too late, his men would be on them. Should they somehow slip out of the trap he knew right where they would be headed. They would know that as well but they wouldn’t know the sanctuary was inaccessible.

He made up his mind. A good assassin always had to be flexible and adapt to sudden changes. Considering all angles his best option was to attack. He summoned the men and laid out his plans.



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ENB: NiceENB by Saltr

Notes: Just as an aside I have spent more time on google with these last few stories than ever before. If anyone monitored my search patterns they would swear I was about to be a new parent. I wanted to make sure my handling of Kol and Van was somewhat realistic so I have looked up the average weight ranges for newborn males, when they can grow hair on their heads, and for the last chapter a lot of research on going into labor, how long it can take, the stages, etc. I won’t claim it is all perfectly accurate but I made a good attempt at it. It also has to be balanced by the fact that Kolfinna is a shaman and hence knows nature magic and healing as well as the ability to see into the spirit world.

Music this story - I don't really know if what I picked works for the story but this song by Chris Isaak sends chills through me. It is ... just powerful and for some reason I liked pairing it with this story. The second song I thought matched the feeling of Kol,Van, and Bron struggling to find a safe haven.