“Yes, my King, we have,” Helena replied before Sylvana could. “Everything is taken care of. We only await Raziel's departure so we can move out as well. It should be soon; I guess within a few hours at the most.”
A wicked grin crept onto his deformed, bony face as he studied the sisters.
“What pitiful creatures you are, you two. I have trained you well it seems,” he whispered, but then fell silent for a long time.
The sisters kept staring at the wall, so as not to meet his gaze and offend him. Fraya groaned as she came to, breaking the spell. He waved them off, flicking his fingers at them in dismissal.
“Go. Be sure to bring me his head—or death will be the least of your problems.”
Sylvana couldn't be more grateful for the words and bowed slightly.
“Don’t worry, my King. We live to serve you.”
She turned around quickly, Helena right behind her.
“Oh, one more thing,” Lefrand said, just as they were about to exit his chambers. “Sylvana, we will pick up from where we left off today when you return. Depending on how well you please me, you will be rewarded or punished accordingly.”
Chills ran down both sisters’ spines and Sylvana’s gut clenched into a hard knot. She almost rebelled then and there, but Helena pushed her forward and did her best to help by sharing the burden. They hurried away before he had anything else to add. As the door closed, Fraya got to her knees and turned towards Lefrand.
“Is it my turn now, my lord?” she asked in a seductive voice.
“Yes, my dear. It’s your turn now,” he replied, shifting his robe away from his groin, revealing a swollen member. Fraya’s head moved between his legs and took it all in her mouth, moaning ecstatically. “You’ll have to teach those two next time they’re here, my dear. I want to see them on their knees, pleasuring me, or I’ll have to take care of them. What a shame. So many subjects have to die so I can stay happy.”
A few excruciatingly painful minutes later, the sisters exited the long and dark corridor only to be welcomed by a foggy morning dawn. Helena took her sisters’ hair and held it up as Sylvana bent over and heaved. They were both disgusted by what had just happened, and the stench from the candles only served to make them feel even sicker. Finally, after a few hard minutes, they sat down next to each other, neither of them speaking.
They sat there, looking out onto the lake for more than ten minutes before Sylvana finally broke the silence.
“We can’t go back to that leech, Helena. We have to do something or die trying. I’ll never let him touch me again or take care of his needs!” she cried through tears of shame and rage.
Helena remained quiet, not sure what she could say. Dawn had finally arrived and with it came new hope, on where they could somehow manage to free themselves from this curse.
She turned towards the sun that was coming up over the mountain in the distance. Now they had to find Crozan again, the despicable creature that he was, almost as vile and twisted as their King. If they didn't know better, the sisters would think that all Vampires were the same; evil monsters of the night steeped in sex and violence, blood, and death.
“Let's go, Hella,” Sylvana said as she got up and stepped out to meet the day.
“Yeah, I’m coming,” Helena replied, her voice strained. It was only natural that both worried, but Sylvana had taken things to another level entirely. She followed quickly after her sister, and the two started running and dodging between the trees and the brush, heading to meet up with Crozan.
The sisters arrived some half an hour later at his Coven. He held a young woman up by her breast and drank from her neck. Noticing the sisters, he tossed the poor soul aside. She landed awkwardly on the cold, stone floor.
“Oh, how good of you to join me this fine day!” he laughed. “It will be a day to remember, a day to celebrate for many years to come! Today, we rid this world of a plague that’s held me back from my rightful place as the first Vampire Lord!”
Crozan hated Raziel with every fiber of his being, more even than the twins hated the King, though they were a close second. Ever since Raziel had beat him for the position of First Lord and mutilated him decades ago, Crozan had been itching for a fight but never been given the opportunity by Lefrand. He’d waited long enough, and it was finally time for his revenge. If only they could witness Raziel ripping him apart, now that would make today a day to remember.
Sylvana’s heart fluttered slightly at the mere thought. Why was she thinking along those lines? It wasn’t as if that would help them, right? Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Crozan’s demise would make her feel slightly better. Who knew, maybe she’d witness a miracle before Raziel killed them all.
“Yes, Lord Crozan.” Helena spoke, seeing Sylvana was again lost in her own thoughts, “We’ve just come back from our meeting with the King and are ready to get this over with. Where do you want us?” she asked after a moment. A wicked smile stretched the corners of his mouth.
“I have the perfect spot for you, Ladies!” he laughed, pointing at his member. When he didn’t elicit the wanted response, Crozan scoffed, got up, and walked off, turning his back on them. The sisters’ eyes met briefly before they let out a sigh as they followed, ready to wage war on someone who could kill them as easily as snapping a twig. What a shitty day it was turning out to be.
Chapter Seven
The sound of shod hooves clattering on the cobble-stoned road was getting on everyone's nerves four hours into the journey. We had made a good start, and everything seemed to be going smoothly until the rain soaked the roads and made it difficult for the carts and infantry. Lost in my thoughts, I yearned to see Newfolk again. It was just around the corner, so to speak, and we would arrive there shortly at this pace before continuing on. Maybe I’d see her waving from the walls, maybe not. We marched towards the border and then we would head north. The map Lefrand provided was more than vague, but I knew the general direction we needed to go, which was enough for now.
Close to two-thousand people walked along with me, every single one a member of my Coven. It was funny when one considered that we had only become a rank two Coven this past year, rivaling others with over five-thousand soldiers.
I paced my horse up and down the line, annoyed by how slowly we were moving. Usually, we moved at an accelerated pace on drugged horses or relied upon our own speed. But now, even if we were to abuse the horses like that, the road was too muddy and slippery to do more than plod steadily forward.
Lefrand neglected the roads, not needing a horse himself as he simply used his wings and flew. What a travesty; Vampires sprouting angelic wings, pure and white as snow. Even worse, Crozan had sprouted a pair as well. I had bigger worries than snowy white feathers, trying to keep my Coven alive, fed, and properly equipped.
Snapping out of my dark thoughts, I rode down the line, inspecting everything before making my way back up to the head of the column for the tenth time. Two hundred archers marching on foot carried a modest load of gear. They were equipped with both a long and short-bow, a quiver full of arrows, daggers sheathed at their sides, and leather studded armor. Most of them were women and a smaller group of men.
In front of the archers marched three hundred heavy infantry, both men and women. They wore the heaviest gear, including a chain-mail hauberk, a shield, sword, and either an ax or a javelin. Another three hundred infantry, spearmen and women walked in front of the heavy infantry, clad in a chain-mail vest, with a long spear and quiver of javelins on their backs.
Finally, at the front rode two hundred cavalry, the pride of my army. All the horses and riders were fed a mixture of my blood and magic, cast by the only two Elves in my service. One of the beneficial effects was an increase to their endurance, power, and speed—for both the horse and its rider—while the second major benefit was the bond this created between the mount and the man. Once that bond grew strong enough, they could read eachothers’ thoughts, making the cavalry especially effective in ra
ids. That symbiosis came at a price, however, as they became so dependent on one another that when either of them died, the other would be crippled or broken, dying shortly after.
The cavalry had earned a special place, both in my non-beating heart and within the Coven. It did not recruit or conscript, no, only those who wished glory or wanted to be something special joined up. They had to volunteer. That’s why the others respected them so much. The horse’s lifespan increased dramatically with the bond; they could live for fifty to eighty years without any problem.
I rode up to my group of commanders, who appeared to be busy discussing something. I didn’t interrupt for a long moment, waiting for them to finish. Calina led the archers, Stalker was the head of—well, nothing. He was my wild card who I mostly used for scouting or assassinations, but sometimes gave him the cavalry to command. Sentinel led the heavy infantry and had always done so, while Slayer—was simply Slayer. The man enjoyed fighting, so I usually left him in the thickest part of the fight and let him gorge himself on violence to his heart’s content unless leading the spearmen.
Just as I was stood up in my stirrups to speak, a sudden ruckus drew my attention. I turned back around and rode down the snaking column to see what had happened. Two carts lay entangled, having crashed into each other, breaking the front wheels of the second one.
I sighed and called out for the column to halt.
“Fix the wheel as fast as possible,” I ordered the group of civilians operating the cart, “we’re already falling behind schedule.” Luckily for us, we’d brought plenty of spare wheels and other replacement materials. I grinned, thinking fondly of Calina and how she had thought of everything. What a young woman.
I made my way back up to the front again, not wanting to stand over their shoulder and make the workers more nervous than they already were. Slayer offered me a grin and a flask of alcohol.
“How does it look, my lord?” Slayer asked.
I could see the man felt horrible after getting plastered last night, it was written all over his face. He had apologized profusely but realized it wasn’t enough. Keeping up a good appearance was the only thing he could do to get back in my good graces. I read him like an open book.
“A damaged cart which will be fixed soon. Besides that, the coven looks good. Armor is tight, polished, and worn well. The weapons are in good shape, at least from what I could see. Our spirit worries me though. This pace is horribly slow and tiring. The regular troopers are already tiring and worn out. “
“Yes, my lord, so it is. The troops constantly murmur about the slow pace, but the soil is muddy and we have carts that need to be pulled. It can't be helped. I’d rather see them murmur about the pace being slow than being hungry,” Slayer offered. I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.
“You are always on point, Slayer,” I replied, and shook my head. The man was straight as an arrow and always said what he thought, even when it wasn’t the smartest thing to do. We fell silent and marched on for a while, enjoying the cool breeze.
“Shouldn't you have brought her with us, my lord?” Slayer finally asked, all business.
I kept my gaze in front of me as we rode on and let out a deep sigh. It’d been over half an hour since we passed Newfolk.
“Maybe. I don't really know how to explain it to everyone, though.”
Slayer’s left eyebrow shot up as he looked at me, as if not able to believe what I just said.
“Explain what? To whom? You’re the Lord and Master of this coven!”
I looked back towards where we passed Newfolk, my eyes boring into the distance as if I could still sight its walls. I sighed and shook my head again.
“We’ve got more important things to do now, don’t we?”
“No, we don’t, especially if this will turn out the way I think it will,” he murmured. Sure, Slayer was my subordinate, but his honesty and the way he worried about me went much deeper than that. “Take twenty horses with you. You could be back here in little over an hour with your wife to be.”
A smile appeared on my face for his understanding. One of the things I always preached was the importance of equality. That, no matter the rank, none deserved special privileges. So, I didn’t want to be a hypocrite, doing something contrary to everything I tried to instill in my people, at least not without some sort of encouragement and approval.
Whenever I needed to talk to someone, needed encouragement or a clap on the shoulder, I came to Slayer. He had the most influence with the coven aside from myself, partially because of his sister, Calina, who was very much loved, so when the man gave his consent, I didn’t have a reason to refuse. Sentinel and Stalker wouldn’t mind either, I knew as much. The only one who wouldn’t like it would be Calina, but I couldn’t do much about that, partially because of who Slayer was and how he felt about his sister. He might play a rough-neck and the other two might joke around about his sister in front of me, but he cared about her more than his own life.
“First two rows of cavalry, with the Lord!” Slayer called out in a powerful shout, as I turned my horse and spurred it down the road. The two first rows turned as one and followed without so much as a word. They were loyal to the core and wouldn’t even protest a command that sent them into certain death.
My chest felt lighter by the moment as I passed a recent bend and rise, making my way back to Newfolk. The cavalry kept up with ease since the horses were still ‘drugged’ so to speak. The joy of seeing Alara again so soon was almost overwhelming. What would she say when I appeared during the day?
I chuckled at the thought of her cursing me out and sending me on my way. She had it in her, the little fox. There was so much I hadn’t expressed to her last night, like my intentions and what she had to look forward to. What we had to look forward to.
“My Lord!” one of the riders called after me, bringing me to a halt. I turned to the man and frowned.
“What is it, soldier?”
“Sir, our horses are going mad for some reason. They’re afraid and—they feel vulnerable. It’s as if they don’t wish to continue.”
I frowned, not able to understand why he would even say such a thing. Why would the horses feel that way? There was nothing in the vicinity that even remotely indicated danger.
“Are you sure?”
He nodded.
“Definitely, my Lord. All the horses are spooked. At least ours are.”
“We’ll move off the road and on to the ridge firstly. Follow me up the hill.”
“In line!” the soldier yelled, as he pulled up behind me. The other nineteen riders followed suit, forming a long line behind me.
I concentrated even more on my surroundings and slowed down to a trot. The first thing I noticed was the complete lack of animals and a faint, ugly smell in the air. Yet, I still felt no premonition of danger. Was it just our imagination? Were we already too tired from the march? We kept riding towards the top of the ridge, keeping our eyes sharp.
“Finally! We’ll be able to see Newfolk from atop that rise!”
I couldn’t help but exult as we neared our destination, or rather, the first part of our destination, as we approached the crest of the slope. A strange feeling crept up on me again, but this time it was even stronger than before. I stopped and got off my horse, my legs suddenly weak. A sudden burst of pain washed over me, as I crept low and peered over the crest and looked down into the valley where Newfolk sat.
My eyes widened at the image that appeared before me. Newfolk was in flames and surrounded by an army of Vadanis soldiers, banners of Crozan’s coven snapping in the wind.
Chapter Eight
The ditch was cold and nasty. It annoyed Sylvana to her core, and beyond if possible. She shouldn’t be wasted like this, lying in wait to see when Raziel would finally move out. Raziel. She would make him pay for causing her to lie in the muck, whether it was intentional or not. No, that wasn’t true. It was her own fault for not being able to break off the miserable old lecher who was the source of all
the pain and humiliation she endured up until this point. Now she would have the blood of over five thousand deaths on her hands, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
She sighed, frustrated about her predicament, and rolled over, lying on her back.
“Helena, is there really nothing we can do? I’m not sure I can go through with it. Newfolk I mean. Five thousand innocent lives are too much to bear!”
Helena remained silent, lost in her own deep thoughts. Sylvana wasn’t the only one who’d been wronged for decades, Helena had just as much shit going on herself. She didn't want any of it either, but when it came to risking her life or Sylvana’s, there was no doubt. She’d sacrifice the whole world for her sister. Sylvana was all she had. Her only family. Her only friend.
They had gone through too much to just give up and do whatever. Success today was their only option, nothing else. Only then could they possibly hope for a chance to live their lives free of that lecherous snake. Especially if they managed to do what Crozan couldn’t. Maybe they would first help Raziel kill the bastard, then kill him in turn. No, her Elven pride wouldn’t permit such treachery. If need be, she would sacrifice herself to give Sylvana an opening to kill Raziel and live in her stead.
“We’ll do what it takes, sister. If the sacrifice of five thousand is what is required to give us the opening we need, then we’ll take it. We’ll give him Raziel's head, and when we have that lecherous fool where we want him, we will take his life. Don’t fail me now. Endure, please.”
Sylvana looked away, unwilling to look her sister in the eyes. She felt the same, but there was just no way she’d go through with it. Killing innocents, especially children, was out of the question. The problem now was how the hell would Helena react in the heat of battle?
“I’ll find a way, with or without you, sister,” Sylvana whispered.
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