Outcast (The Blue Dragon's Geas) Read Free Page B

put an arm around him. His brother had grabbed his mining sack, and began to move him out of the circle.
    Dorien had rarely touched him kindly in the past. Alador had always felt the child not wanted even in their home. So to have his brother take him in the shelter of those large blacksmithing arms and guide him home was more of a shock then the village react ions. He realized that, despite the unfamilarity, he was grateful for the protection from the many eyes that followed them.
    “Dorien, why all this fuss over a bloodstone?"  He asked as they approached the stoop of their home. The house had always amused him. It was as if each room had been added as an afterthought. The stairs to the upper portions had been placed on the outside due to the small rooms within being unable to accommodate them. It was a maze that the small ones loved for games of hiding. The best thing about it though was the rich hues of brown and cream, the smell of his maman’s cooking, and the warmth that filled its walls. Even with his status as a half breed, his home was still one filled with love; well between sibling fights and his maman’s scolding.
    “Alador, have you no idea what your stone might fetch?"  Dorien looked at him with a calculating gaze.
    “Well, knowing what I get for the small ones, I thought it might be enough for this year’s upkeep for myself, maybe a little extra to take care of a female’s small ones , someday."  He admitted not quite sure. “I have never seen one so large, so…not even sure if it might not be just too big."  He stared at the stone. It was heavy, and when you held it up, you could see through it like red window pane glass, although its thickness distorted that view somewhat. He held it up and gazed through it as they paused outside.
    “Alador, you will never have to mine again if you don’t want to. It will fetch enough for a lifetime. It will put you in the same graces as Ketchen."  Ketchen had made his slips by an invention to a plow he had created. Every blacksmith including Dorien had paid him a great deal to get the specifications for the plow head. Even Lerdenian smiths had come to learn the design. It could deepen the furrow and was less inclined to bind with the spring grass. This had given him enough slips to choose his craft, and he had the nicest house in the village. Alador looked up in surprise at his brother. He had many times envied Ketchen, who always seemed to be in the alehouse or out on his stoop.
    Dorien looked at Alador. “You will likely have every female competing for your attention now, despite your...father’s race.”
    Alador stopped walking and turned to face his brother. “I...I do...what will I do?”
    Dorien’s deep laugh echoed, alerting their mother of their arrival. “You must be the only middlin in town who does not dream of a day where he does not have to toil for his keep.”
    Their conversation was interrupted by their mother, Alanis, rushing out to take Alador in her arms. “I was so afraid we lost you."  She checked him over quickly, causing laughter from his brothers and sister. They pulled him into the main room of the house where he found a meal laid out for him. His mother pushed him into a chair. Her philosophy ever since he could remember was that food would cure all ailments. Dorien took the stone from his hands, and he placed it in the center of the table.
    Tentret, who was also older than Alador, stared at it. “I have never seen one so clear.”
    Alador paused from shoving the cream soup into his mouth. “That is what I thought, the stone is so clear that I fear it will lower its value.”
    “Or raise it."  Offered his little sister, Sofie, hopefully.
    “Even if it lowers the value somewhat, Alador, I doubt you will feel the loss over much."  Dorien offered, turning a chair so he could rest his chin on the back as he straddled it.
    “We must have a drawing of it before it is sold."  Tentret ran to fetch his drawing things and then