The Chronicles of the Immortal Council: The complete 10-book collection

by D C Young

  Marcus slowly approached the fledgling vampire, “That is true Marie, but we are still at the top of the food chain. There is nothing in the woods around us stands a chance against us.”

  Marie focused for the first time on Marcus. Ever since her rebirth, she had vacillated between admiration and hatred for the man who had saved her from death and imprisoned her in the night. She was about to say something, but the approach of three men caught her attention and awakened her hunger.

  Marcus had sensed the men as soon as he left the crate, and smiled at Marie’s reaction, “Yes, they are coming to do us harm, Marie. We have done nothing to them except pay them well for their services. What do you want to do?”

  “I am hungry, more hungry than I’ve ever been, but I don’t want to kill innocents,” Marie said, warring with her better nature.

  Björn nodded and said, “Then let’s give them a fighting chance. If they wish us no harm, they live. But the moment they threaten, they become food.”

  Marie reluctantly agreed, deciding it was a question of survival. If there was one thing Marie De Guise knew how to do, it was survive.

  ***

  1537 A.D.

  Just three months after her first husband, Louis II d’Orleans, Duke of Longueville died, she gave birth to her second son. Her first son, Francis, was only three years old at the time and she, only twenty-one. The French Duchess named him after his father, but that turned out to be a bad omen, as the child died soon after.

  Marie did not have much time to grieve though, as she became the prize that two powerful men were fighting over. Henry VII of England and James V of Scotland both made advances for her hand in marriage. Both hoped to win the favor of the French through the wedding. Any other woman would have been flattered by the attention, but Marie’s upbringing and education made the dangers obvious. England and Scotland were at odds, and her decision could be all the kindling needed to start an all out war.

  Marie had met James when he visited France to make the acquaintance of Madeleine of Valois. She had even attended their wedding. Now that Madeleine had succumbed to tuberculosis, he needed a new wife and a new connection to keep his alliance with France. Marie was the perfect bride, in his opinion. Henry thought the same thing, even though they had never met. Henry’s reputation when it came to his wives made it a simple decision for Marie, since she did not want to be banished or beheaded. She let King Francis I of France know her wishes, and less than a year after her first husband died, she was married to her second, James.

  The marriage appeared fruitful from the start. Marie gave birth to their son James in 1540, and a year later came Robert. His birth was quickly overshadowed by the death of his brother James.

  “How did this happen?” Marie cried to the physician who came to Holyrood Abbey in hopes of curing the boy’s sudden illness.

  “I think it was the pox, my lady,” the doctor said.

  Marie looked down at little baby Robert, resting in her arms, “And how can we keep my other son from falling to that cruel ailment?”

  The doctor waved his hands, “Oh the little one will be fine. There is no danger of a baby falling ill to the pox.”

  Eight days later, his words echoed in Marie’s mind as she prepared to bury her newborn son. Everyone in the court tried to sympathize with Marie’s loss, but she was heartbroken. She spent hours alone in her room, staring at herself in the mirror and brushing her hair. She wondered to herself why death seemed to follow and drown her happiness. Her husband James came to call on her several times, but could not break through her shell of despair. After several days, Marie decided there was only one way to move past the deaths of her children, and that was to have another.

  Chapter Fourteen

  1542 A.D.

  Nine months after her son, Robert’s death, Marie gave birth to her first daughter, who she named Marie. She delighted in the child, feeling deep in her soul that Marie would end her dance with death. But it was not meant to be. Six days after Marie’s birth, her father, King James passed away. His sudden illness shocked the court and surprised his physicians. It also made baby Marie Queen Regnant of Scotland and her mother bigger targets for the political world. Marie De Guise decided then and there that she would do everything she could to protect her daughter, and by extension, the people of Scotland.

  Marie’s first problem came in the form of the man who had once asked for her hand in marriage, King Henry VIII of England. He wanted the baby promised to his son, Edward. Marie did not want any part of the English royalty for her daughter, but she knew that simply denying Henry anything would bring a war. So instead, she promised Marie to Edward when she reached the age of ten. At the same time, she contacted King Henry II of France, and promised her daughter to his son, Francis II. Marie tried to keep the arrangements as quiet as possible, but Henry VIII received word and he started a war that historians would later jokingly call the Rough Wooing.

  At first, the war looked like England’s to lose. They decimated Scotland’s forces at the Battle of Pinkie Cleugh, and Marie feared hope would soon be lost. A woman of 32, Marie knew very little about warfare. So when her French allies sent reinforcements, she thought it was a gift from God above, but she had no idea how to use them. That is until a giant of a man stepped forward and promised a leader was on the way.

  “And what is this leader’s name? And yours” Marie asked the blond man.

  The man smiled, showing too many teeth, “My name is Björn Ironside, and his name is Marcus, and he will be here after nightfall. Will he be allowed to call on you at that time?”

  Marie examined the Björn fellow and felt nervous. He was dressed for court, but he stood nothing like the other men. His feet were too far apart, his arms crossed in judgment, and his head refused to bow to royalty. He had a confidence that Marie liked and needed for her military forces.

  “Yes, I will set time aside to speak with this Marcus. But let him know that I won’t be kept waiting,” Marie said.

  Björn smiled and gave a small bow that did not reach his head, “You will not be disappointed, my lady. Marcus will be able to advise you on how to lead Scotland to success. You have Björn Ironside‘s word on that.”

  He strolled out of the chamber and entered the field where the French troops had set up in a field next to Stirling Castle. Björn entered his tent, and rested on his cot for a few hours. Inside the tent was also a long, thin crypt for Marcus. They had joined the French troops leaving for Scotland on a whim after reuniting in Germany twenty years earlier. Before that, they hadn’t seen each other since Björn faked his own death when some of his relatives began to question his good health at such an old age. They had gone their separate ways for a few centuries, learning more about the powers they held and how many more there were like them.

  Now they were sharing a battlefield and a tent once again. Björn always felt at home where blood was being spilled, but this latest form of warfare was not to his liking. There was little excitement in a battle that was planned and scheduled. He preferred an attack that caught you by surprise, that made you think on your feet.

  “War isn’t supposed to be civilized,” Björn muttered to himself as his internal clock woke him.

  Marcus picked that moment to rise from his crypt, “That kind of thinking will make you a creature of the past, Björn. You must stay in the present and prepare for the future.”

  “So you’ve told me, Marcus, too many ways,” Björn said.

  Marcus stood and dusted himself off, “So what of our Marie De Guise? Has she accepted our offer?”

  Björn nodded, “She has, but she wanted me to warn you not to keep her waiting.”

  “Well, I would never be that rude,” Marcus said as he ducked his head out of the tent to watch the last rays of sunlight die out, “shall we go meet our newest benefactor?”

  Björn got up and followed Marcus out of the tent. The French soldiers watched the two men with a strong measure of caution. They all knew their names, but none o
f them knew their significance. Their leaders had given strict orders to stay clear of them. It wasn’t an order that had to be given more than once. Battle worn men could tell who was dangerous at a glance, and Marcus and Björn radiated danger.

  As Marcus entered Marie’s court, all eyes followed him. Marie De Guise sat in the center, on a chair just to the right of the throne. While she wasn’t her daughter’s regent, no one at Stirling Castle would question her authority.

  Marcus went down on one knee and bowed his head, “My Lady, I am Marcus Antonius, sent her King Henry II to aid you in any way I can.”

  Marie smiled at the man’s manners, which Björn Ironside still refused to adopt, “You have a very famous name. Should I be worried that you are trying to rebuild the Roman Empire?”

  A few people tittered in laughter at Marie’s joke, and Marcus smiled, “No, my Lady. My mother had visions of grandeur for her son, that is all. The only empire I want any part of is the one you build here in Scotland.”

  “Well said, Marcus,” Marie said, “and how do you suggest we make that happen? I have England bearing down on me from all sides. French soldiers will help, but only if they can counter the Rough Wooing from Henry successfully.”

  Marcus stood and locked eyes with Marie, “Henry is no threat if we can get the people of Scotland behind you. Under Björn Ironside’s direction, your new troops can handle anything England throws this way. You and I will work on making Scotland believe you and your daughter are the only ones with God’s authority to rule.”

  “And how will we do that?” Marie asked, even though she believed she knew the answer.

  Marcus said, “Simple my Lady. We will whisper the right words in the right ears, and let them spread your legend.”

  Marie stared at Marcus for a minute, trying to find a crack in the man’s confidence. When she could not, Marie said, “I like your plan. When do we start?”

  “You and I start tonight, and Björn starts tomorrow. Who is the most unreliable person in your court?” Marcus asked. He offered her his hand so they could walk out of the room.

  Marie smiled and took his hand. She whispered the answer and Marcus told Marie what to say to him the next time she saw him.

  In the morning, Björn had the French generals march their forces to Haddington, where a large English force had gathered. Björn’s plan was to starve them out, giving the Scots and French a much needed victory. He knew that the English had dug in and were positioning cannons to fortify their position. Björn wanted the Scots to see how invested the French were in the fight against their common enemy. It appeared to be working, forming a strong bond between the two people.

  Back at Stirling Castle, Marcus was tutoring Marie on what she needed to know about warfare and the more dangerous side of court life. Despite her staving off of Henry VIII’s request of her hand in marriage, Marie was still a novice at the game. Through Marcus’s teaching, she was able to elevate her position in Scotland and France. She successfully received permission to send her daughter to France, where she would be raised in the household of her future husband, Francis II.

  “Well done, my Lady. Your next move is a little more dangerous, and I cannot accompany you,” Marcus said.

  Marie frowned at Marcus, “And why is that?”

  “Even I have my limitations, my Lady. I cannot join you as you survey the Siege of Haddington. You must go with your entourage, and witness the battle’s progress. Your presence alone will spur your army to victory. All I ask is that you be careful. I have grown quite fond of you,” Marcus said.

  “And I you, Marcus. You are right, of course. I have put off visiting my armies for far too long. We will leave in the morning,” Marie said.

  The road to Haddington was uneventful, but as soon as Marie De Guise arrived at the city, she witnessed the true toll of war. Everywhere she looked, she saw and smelled death. The thought that all of this fighting was over her refusal to promise her daughter to the son of King Henry VIII brought tears to her eyes. Part of her wanted to tell her entourage to turn around and not to stop until they reached Stirling Castle. Then Marcus’s voice filled her head, telling her that these were her people. They were willing to lay down their lives for her, so she needed to be willing to lead them.

  Marie made her decision and jumped out of her carriage, “I want to speak to the generals. Where are they?”

  Within seconds, her entourage surrounded Marie and they walked en masse to the main tent. Once there, Marie found Björn among the generals making plans to strike at Haddington in the morning. The generals hopped to attention at Marie’s presence, but Björn only nodded in her direction.

  “How goes the battle, gentlemen?” Marie asked.

  The generals all spoke together; trying to reassure Marie that victory was close at hand. She quickly realized that Björn did not share their enthusiasm.

  “And what do you think, Björn?”

  Björn raised his head, “My Lady, I fear the English are dug in too much to root out by conventional means.”

  “Then let us use unconventional means. We must stop this bloodbath any way we can,” Marie told him.

  “What you ask can be just as dangerous for your troops as what they already face,” Björn said. As he looked away from Marie, she thought she saw his eyes turn yellow. She dismissed that thought as impossible.

  Marie walked back out of the tent, and her entourage quickly followed, as well as the generals, “Nothing could be as dangerous as my men being killed where they stand, waiting for us to decide on our next move.”

  As if she had signaled it herself, gunshots fired all around Marie and several members of her entourage fell to the ground. Out of nowhere, Björn jumped on Marie, shielding her from being hit by any flying projectiles. The remaining members of her entourage fired back at the assailants while Björn carried Marie to her carriage.

  “My Lady, the front line is no place for you,” Björn said, “if you promise never to return, I promise to end this siege by the end of the week.”

  Marie looked in his eyes and saw his determination, “You have my word. But be careful.”

  Björn laughed and closed the door of the carriage, “You need to make up your mind, my Lady. Do you want me to end this or be careful?” He then ran back to the main tent where the generals had retreated to.

  Marie’s entourage made the journey back to Stirling Castle in record time, but somehow word of her near death experience beat them. Everyone in court rushed Marie as she arrived, complimenting her bravery and wanting to know what it was like to face almost certain death.

  Marie quieted them down and said, “I saw only a fraction of the terror our soldiers face every day. I am proud to call them countrymen, for their courage fills Scotland with hope. Sixteen members of my own entourage died protecting me. I will remember their names and sacrifice for the rest of my days. I will make sure their deaths are not in vain!”

  The court cheered her speech, and Marie noticed Marcus standing in the back of the room, clapping. She made her way to him and asked him to walk with her.

  As they put distance between them and the rest of the court, Marie said, “I may have made a mistake in Haddington.”

  Marcus patted her hand, “I highly doubt it. From what I heard, you handled yourself and the situation perfectly.”

  “Perhaps, but I may have pressured Björn to take an action he wasn’t comfortable with,” Marie said.

  Marcus stopped and asked, “What are you talking about?”

  “He said that the English were dug in too much to be rooted out by conventional means, so I told him to use unconventional means. He was hesitant at first, but after the attack, he promised to end the siege by the end of the week. What do you think he plans to do?” Marie asked.

  Marcus took Marie’s hand and started walking again, “What he should have done weeks ago.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  It didn’t take long for Veronica to track down Rand and it took even less time for her to ext
ract the information she wanted from him. As she’d suspected the Brotherhood had been aware of the dødehekse’s arrival in southern California and as was their way, they were waiting to see what would come of it.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t think to warn the Council… or even me. This thing hunts vampires; didn’t you think that eventually it would be after me?”

  “I couldn’t say anything, it’s out of my control, Veronica. You know the rules.”

  “To hell with the rules, Rand! Don’t you care at all?”

  “It’s not my work to care. It’s my work to watch and hunt when told to.”

  “Fat lot of help you are. It’s just as well I’m done with you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Figure it out, genius. You’ll have a lot of time on your hands now while you watch and wait for the Brotherhood and wonder about what Julia and the Council might do to you when they find out you knew about this all along.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  ‘Take it however you want, Rand. I’ve washed my hands.”

  Before he could launch another protest, Veronica did her thing and ‘whooshed’ out of there.

  ***

  I didn’t know where to turn or who I could ask that could lead us to the dødehekse’s nest. I went home after Julia dismissed the meeting and spent the rest of that night trying to come up with my next move but by sunrise, I still hadn’t figured anything out.

  Fang had come online sometime around 4 a.m. but all he could do was add to the mystery. Apparently, six young vampires and two of his donors had been hijacked and killed on the Pacific Coast Highway somewhere near Pescadero on their way to San Francisco. They’d all been drained of blood and their hearts torn out. I couldn’t even narrow down an area of operation with that information. I mean it’s not like Calabasas and Pescadero are in the same neighborhood, I thought.