Tower of Ancients

by Jaeger Mitchells

  “Come in,” he said a bit calmer, wondering anxiously who was about to join them. Raziel disliked their drinking parties, but he wouldn’t punish them since they were about to go to war, again. Or at least he hoped the boss would be lenient.

  Some seconds passed before the door opened, revealing a tall, slender woman. She was clad in studded leather armor, a bow strapped to her back and a short blade sheathed at her thigh. Long brown hair in a tight braid flowed down to her waist, standing out in contrast to her pale skin and green eyes.

  “Everything is ready for the mission,” she said with a dry voice, waited for a moment, then continued. “The formations are equipped and resting, awaiting our departure.”

  “Thanks,” Stalker groaned from the floor, suddenly awake. “What about the horses and provisions?”

  The woman narrowed her eyes at him.

  “You are drunk, scum. How dare you drink so much before we leave for battle!” she hissed through clenched teeth. Her otherwise beautiful complexion changed into something much more monstrous than human.

  “Now that is exactly why Raziel didn't want you, Calina!” Slayer growled. “You are too annoying! You preach and preach! Why don’t you make your brother proud and get laid?”

  “Come, sit on my lap. Have some fun!” Sentinel laughed.

  Both Slayer and Calina were stunned speechless by his remark.

  “Sentinel! Enough!” Slayer yelled as he found his voice. “Go sleep it off! I’m not letting you lay a finger on my sister, you brute!”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m still sober enough, comrade. Unlike you.”

  “What the hell is it with you people?” Calina asked, annoyance seeping out of her very pores. “We’re going out on an infiltration, possibly never to return, and you three act like donkeys, drinking yourself to sleep!” she screamed, waving her hands in exasperation. “And then you want to hit on me? At least be man enough to do it sober!”

  “Ouch, that must have hurt,” Slayer smirked. “Don’t come onto my sister, drunk or not!”

  “Calina, I’ll treat you good, all jokes aside,” Sentinel promised, “I’ll even use the bonus I earned the last raid from Raziel on you. You can become like the three of us.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, still fuming. Then she deflated as all fight left her and she seemed to be considering his offer. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really,” he smiled, “You know how I’ve had feelings for you all these years, don’t you?”

  “Wait, what? Are the two of you really doing this?” Stalker protested. He got up to his knees, all wobbly, and pointed a shaking finger at Sentinel. He was outmatched no matter how you looked at it, in both size and power, but the smaller man wasn’t having any of it.

  I sighed, finally dropping in through the window and slipping past them into a dark shadow of the far corner. It was a bad habit, I knew, but I always checked on the idiots before we went out. It was a good thing I did, or they wouldn’t be in any shape to ride tomorrow.

  “It’s alright, Calina,” I said. “It’s past time for you to become one of the elites, even if you don’t want to be with him.”

  Startled, she looked around, searching for me. I stood in the darkest corner, watching the room entire room and the three idiots who were drunk beyond reason.

  “M-my Lord!” she squealed. I knew she had feelings for me and that she was easily flustered when I was around, but I learned to live with it. So far, it hadn’t done anyone any harm.

  “Let them have their fill tonight. We’ll leave at dawn so they have a few hours to sleep it off.”

  “Alright, but—” She stopped.

  “But what? Most of you aren’t changed yet so we can’t set out any sooner than that. You can’t travel through the night as we can.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She ducked her head, “You’re right, as usual.”

  “Right or not and Stalker notwithstanding, you really should find a mate. Sentinel is a fine man, not to mention Grestal.”

  “Really? Boss? You’re trying to give her to someone else?” Sentinel asked, his left eyebrow raised.

  “Shut it. She’s not mine to give away. Now, Calina, what’s the situation with provisions? Do we have enough carts and horses?”

  Her expression softened and a smile soon found its way back onto her face.

  “Right, my Lord. The carts are being loaded as we speak. Thirteen carts with provisions for the troops, seven for the animals and for—the others,” she said, sounding as if she wanted to throw up.

  I couldn’t help but stare down at her, irritation written all over my face. I hated to be called a Vampire simply because I hated what I’d become. The reason why she said ‘the others’ was because I asked her to call us that.

  “Alright. That’s basically everything we have, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir. Besides that, I’ve got a little more good news. The Master Smith came up with an interesting new concept for shields and has been working on the carts all night to accommodate everything. They’ve been equipped with large coverings consisting of three layers. The outer layer is a metal coating, the middle is some kind of spongy substance and the inner layer is hardwood. Somehow, they deflect most arrows. Only one in a hundred gets stuck when it hits a shield, and only if fired with great strength.”

  She could see I was pleased with the innovation and continued. “Unfortunately, there aren't many of the shields available. Only the larger ones for defensive operations have been reworked. We don't have any for the troop formations, yet.”

  She let out a frustrated sigh as if it was her fault somehow. Still, anything was better than nothing. Besides, we had enough ‘others’ who could carry these shields without any problems.

  “Interesting. We’ll see how effective they are later. Now, what about laborers?”

  Calina's smile turned into a full grin as if she had hoped I would ask that question.

  “About a hundred, my lord. And all their families,” she replied, almost tripping over her tongue.

  “We still have so many ordinary Humans in our service? I’ve been out of touch with the Coven.” I shook my head. “That will need to change once we’re done with this—mission.”

  “That’s why I’m here, my Lord. Um, no, I mean we all are, not just me.” Her cheeks turned red and her breathing became more erratic.

  “The whole Coven it is, then. Have them bring their immediate families with them, nothing more than spouses or children. We’re not a good-will army.”

  “Yes, my lord. I’ll get right to it. When do we leave precisely?” she asked once more.

  “As I said, dawn. As soon as the sun is up we ride out.” I turned to glare at my elite. “Make sure these idiots are up and prepared to go, Slayer.”

  The man nodded and poured what remained in his glass back into the flask. He wouldn’t waste a drop, the cheap ass.

  “Drunken fools. One of these days they’ll get us killed,” Calina muttered as she walked out.

  Sometimes I wished I had no one under my command. I would only be responsible for a single man, or Vampire, in my case. I would owe my allegiance to no one. I could roam the lands, explore, and enjoy myself. Yeah, one day.

  On the other hand, they were a fine bunch. Loyal to the bone and hard-working. My three elites were only inferior to Vampire Lords, Ladies, and the King. They were the best fighting group in the Kingdom when it came to anything that wasn’t a Vampire in raw prowess and power. Unfortunately, we were also the smallest Coven when it came to real numbers.

  What we lacked in numbers, we made up for with tactics and equipment. A family of blacksmiths joined us after we saved their village over ten years ago. Ever since then they’d been improving our weapons and armor; in many an engagement, this had been the key to a decisive victory.

  Thinking on it, I decided to visit the Master Smith and his family to see what progress they made with an order I placed weeks ago. When I found them, all seven men and nine women were busy. Maybe it was a bit overkill callin
g them all men and women, as they were basically one large family. Harlan and Carla had six sons and eight daughters. The eldest was thirty-nine, while the youngest was twenty-one, all of them able-bodied.

  “Harlan!” I called out, letting them know I was approaching. He had installed some security arrangements so that no one could just walk up and catch them unaware. The traps that surrounded the smithy were vicious and short of a really skilled acrobat or fighter, they could easily kill whoever walked into them.

  “My Lord! You’re just in time!” he grinned, waving for me to come over.

  “How do we stand with regards to the arrows I ordered?”

  “Oh, even better than expected! Just look at these beauties!”

  He disappeared behind a counter and brought back an arrow with a strange-looking tip. It looked like a regular arrowhead despite being way oversized, but the tip was flat and five inches thick. There was a fuse on one side.

  “Does this do what I think it does?” I asked, unable to contain my grin.

  He nodded frantically.

  “Yes! Yes! Once you light the fuse, you have ten seconds to deliver the arrow to your enemy. After ten seconds, or upon impact, the front part explodes and shreds the area with sharp pieces of metal. Theoretically, it should even shred your own armor, my Lord.”

  “Heh, really now? I knew you were good for it,” I laughed, placing my hand on his shoulder. “How many do you have?”

  “Hmm, not many. About a hundred? They take so long to make, I had to prioritize my time. We improved about fifty shields coverings and made a hundred of these. We still have a couple of hours, don’t we? We’ll work hard to use whatever materials we can’t take with us.”

  “Try to use as much as possible. Don’t let the bastards have anything,” I growled.

  “We will, my Lord.”

  “Now, tell me something. What’s the range of these arrows?”

  “See for yourself, my Lord. I think you’ll be rather surprised,” he replied, handing it to me.

  I frowned, not anticipating such a response and took the offered arrow.

  “Shit, this isn’t what I expected at all,” I whispered. The arrow would really pack a punch at close range. The weight of the arrowhead and the thickness of the shaft was incredible for such an abomination. It would have amazing piercing ability, even without a very sharp tip. When it came to attacking enemies at distance, however, its range was limited by the fuse to a ten second flight time. We would have to depend on the explosive area effect at range.

  “Right? Just imagine what we could do if we had quality raw materials to use.” He beamed at me, “who knows, maybe we’ll have some available one day.”

  “I’ll make sure you have some if you’re able to come up with more of these inventions, Harlan. And speaking of inventions, where’s the new shield covering, let me see it.”

  He took back the explosive arrow and hurried off toward a cart some thirty feet from the smithy, then started struggling to pick up the large shield. He more dragged it along than carried it over for inspection.

  The covering was easily six feet tall and more than three feet wide. The outer layer was angled yet reinforced near the center. The inside was spongy and made from multiple layers that seemed to absorb impact, with a hardwood brace on the interior.

  “Make a wall out of these and you’re set.” I smiled. “These are great, Harlan.”

  The man bowed slightly and nodded, soaking up the praise. And to be honest, he deserved it. Even if a Vampire used a high-power bow and a reinforced arrow, he would have a hard time getting through that shield. Good. It was just what we needed.

  Chapter Six

  Old memories crept up on them as Sylvana and Helena walked through the musky corridors beneath Castle Vanadis. Cobwebs covered the corners while insects and rats scurried around the sisters’ feet. The place brought back disturbing memories, memories they would rather push back deep down into the darkness.

  Not that they cared about light or dark anymore, as Lefrand tortured them for years while keeping the two separated in different cells that were plunged in complete darkness. Broken beneath his boot and used as blood sacks and bed slaves, their existence for so long had been the stuff of nightmares. Breaking their bones, only to grow them together again, cutting their skin to try and leave a permanent mark, making them beg for any little scrap of decency—this and many other things had been their daily routine.

  Deprived of clothing and basic hygiene, the two finally succumbed and submitted to becoming his personal slaves for a couple of decades until he got tired of playing with them. Their blood became tainted by his constant feeding and didn’t taste good anymore, so he pushed them aside, instead making their lives miserable with the most demeaning or difficult tasks and missions.

  Still, it was either serve as his slaves or die, at least not until someone brave enough finally delivered them from him. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon; the Vampires loved their King. All except for one.

  Putting these thoughts aside, Sylvana stopped in front of a wall and skimmed her fingers along the edges of the bricks, searching for an indentation and a switch. Her fingers scraped along the sharp edges and finally managed to find it. She pressed down on that side of the brick and activated a mechanism that opened a part of the wall. The narrow entry was just wide enough for the Elven sisters to squeeze through, one after the other.

  Helena went first and stopped on the other side, waiting for her sister, but she hadn’t followed. Helena scooted back and looked out into the corridor. Sylvana stood still as if refusing to duck into the secret passage that would protect her from the lecherous King, but she knew that they had to get this over with.

  “Your phobia still hasn't lessened?” Helena asked, offering her hand.

  Sylvana met her sister’s worried gaze and looked away, embarrassed. She was the older sister, so why couldn’t she be the one Helena leaned on, instead of the other way around? She felt worthless before that monster—less a living, breathing creature than a tool he would discard once it wasn’t needed anymore. But could someone blame her after what they’d gone through?

  “Yeah, I mean no, it hasn’t,” she sighed and joined Helena on the other side of the secret door. They slowly made their way down another passage that held a second hidden entry. The stench of blood, sex, and filth struck her the moment she set foot inside the far corner of the King’s bed-chamber. How long had they spent inside that room? Years? Decades?

  “Let's get this over with, sis. I’m sick to my stomach when I remember what he did to us in this wicked place,” she whispered. “He’s doing this on purpose, reminding us of what he did, of what we are—just to show us our place.”

  Helena’s hand pushed her into the wall and squeezed her arm as their emerald-green eyes met in the darkness.

  “The walls have ears!” she hissed, an angry flame burning in her eyes. “Do you want to get us killed?”

  Sylvana immediately understood her mistake, and it snapped her out of her own relentless misery, but it was too late. Lefrand appeared right behind Helena.

  “It’s not nice to talk about someone when they’re not around, ladies.” He laughed maniacally as he crushed Helena into her sister and reached around her to Sylvana. His hand moved down Sylvana's thigh and slipped under her skirt. She felt like screaming, but she wouldn't give the old lecher the pleasure, not this time. Yes, she would endure it this one last time, hoping that somehow this would be over and something like this never happened again. His other hand dug under her Mithrill covered leather armor, cupping her right breast and squeezed as he bit down on her neck. The humiliation grew as she felt his fingers move between her legs and inside the piece of cloth hugging her hips, groping her mound and scraping his long fingernails across her sex, before pushing his digit inside her.

  “Don't you—have any more—important matters to take care of?” she whispered as her muscles clenched down around his invading finger. She tried to sound as
if she liked it, but the nausea was overwhelming. Lefrand frowned. He pulled his hands out of her armor and pushed Helena to the side before forcing Sylvana’s face up with a hand under her chin to focus on him.

  Lefrand’s finger traced up her neck, cheek and finally slid into her mouth, twirling around her tongue. She wanted to cry out, gag, and throw up, but she needed to keep it in, no matter how much it hurt her pride. Seeing he hadn’t elicited the reaction he was going for, Lefrand punched her in the gut and shoved her to the floor. An instant later he was gone, the door to his inner chamber left wide open.

  It took Sylvana a long time to stand up and even longer to find the courage to follow him, but Helena was there, though still in shock about what Lefrand had just done, though she should have anticipated something similar. She placed her hand on the small of Sylvana’s back and slowly pushed her forwards, following right after.

  Lefrand sat on a large bench with his queens to either side, naked as always. His teeth were sunk deep in Fraya's neck, the blood dripping down his chin as he fed. Two thick candles on a small table at the center of the space illuminated the room just enough so that they weren’t immersed in total darkness. The stench coming from the two guttering wicks was nasty and sickened the sisters to their core. They had no idea what it was, but Lefrand had the candles lit because he knew the effect it had on them, they were sure of it.

  The bed-chamber was huge but mostly empty. A massive bed was located near the back wall, with a few benches and tables to one side and a series of torture devices to the other. A low ceiling reinforced a feeling of claustrophobia. It was unnatural and hateful, just how he liked it.

  “Have you talked to Crozan?” Lefrand finally asked once he finished feeding off Fraya.

  The woman dropped to the floor in a boneless pile, dashing her head against the cold stone with an audible crack. Lefrand wasn't phased in the least for some reason, either knowing it wouldn’t hurt her or simply not caring. She must have had his blood in her system; she would heal at some point.