The Raike Box Set

by Jackson Lear

  “Yeah. I didn’t see them do anything sneaky.”

  Torunn peered back at Zara. “You were there?”

  “I was close enough to listen in. You have a type. Tall men. No beard. Muscular.”

  Torunn’s eyes widened considerably. “I ...”

  “Yeah. I was nearby for longer than you might realize.” She looked back to me. “I didn’t see him pass on any message – written or spoken – to anyone. Nor the captain. Nor Mikael. I sent people over to drop a few names to the locals and to the crew to see how they reacted. No one liked Kasera but no one seemed to froth at the mouth at the chance of getting their revenge sooner rather than later. No one liked Draegor either, though some respected him at least for being a strong leader and someone you don’t fuck around with. They all liked Agnarr, even if some admitted that he was too much of a thinker and not much of a doer. All in all, it didn’t seem like there was a leak from that side.”

  I returned to Torunn. “What do you know about Desdola?”

  He recoiled inwards. “A witch. Talks to ghosts. Ghosts talk to her. Everyone afraid of her.”

  “Why?”

  “Years ago we hunt vampires. Take their blood. Sell it. Drink it. Never problem with selling it or drinking it until Desdola. After that, if you kill vampire you are cursed. Ghost haunts you. Knows more about you than you know. She is walking curse.”

  “Does Draegor help her or does she help him?”

  “Both. King with witch is powerful. Witch with king is powerful. Rumor is she cursed vampires into serving Draegor.”

  “Then the alliance exists with her?”

  “I don’t know. Desdola will never be as strong as Draegor but she will be different.”

  I just had to ask: “If Draegor dies, would she become the queen?”

  “No. Only noble becomes king or queen.”

  “Even if she curses people?”

  Torunn shook his head again. “Only noble becomes king or queen.”

  “So who is next in line?”

  “Everyone.”

  I stood, giving Loken a chance to question Torunn while I pulled Zara aside. “Who chose the timing for this meeting? Us or Agnarr?”

  “Agnarr. He said Draegor and the nobles would be busy.”

  “Even though it exposes him for not being here.”

  “He knows the people better than we do. Do you actually think the guy we came to meet betrayed us?”

  “No, but I am keeping an open mind about it. Between you and me, were we ready to have this meeting earlier?”

  “Not by much. I was still busy vetting Mikael, Agnarr, and Draegor.”

  “I don’t suppose you found out anything surprising about them?”

  “Not really. The nobles love Draegor because he terrifies his enemies.”

  “That alone isn’t reason enough to overthrow him.”

  “No. But we’re among his enemies, so that’s reason enough.”

  “Does he have any redeeming qualities?”

  “As a warlord he’s great at his job. He keeps petty squabbles at bay between the nobles.”

  “Would Agnarr be a better king?”

  “He’d be different but I wouldn’t get your hopes up at that happening anymore.”

  I sighed, thinking it over.

  “Still thinking about dying on the blackened shore?” asked Zara.

  “No, but I’m thinking about Desdola. What do you know about her?”

  “I heard Draegor had a witch. I assumed it was more exaggeration than reality.”

  “Me too.”

  “But …?”

  “Have you ever had vampire blood before?”

  “A drop. That was about it.”

  “They have one foot in the grave, so to speak.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And they seemed to be linked to a seer.”

  Zara strained a look. “Is there a link?”

  “According to Torunn there is.”

  “Could be a coincidence.”

  “Maybe.”

  Zara read into my silence. “I’ve seen this look on you before.”

  “Really? What was I doing then?”

  “Timing something while I was resolutely pissed off at you. So what is it now?”

  “I think I know how to get us out of here.”

  “Get back!” hissed Saskia, pulling everyone away from the door.

  The lock snapped open. The door peeled back. The Lord of Fellgarden stepped inside, surveyed everyone within like he was counting us. He backtracked until his eyes landed upon me. “It’s time.”

  I stared back at the vampire, giving him as little of a response as possible.

  “You are to come with me.”

  “For what purpose?”

  He gestured to the top of the castle. “We’re going to see if you can fly.”

  Chapter Eight

  Not to say that I went willingly with the vampire but there was little I could do against the odds: Thirty four of us – all unarmed, with thirty two of whom were unproven in close-quarters combat – against one of him with a sword. It would be nothing short of a blood bath.

  I received an interesting array of reactions on my way out. Zara’s eyes crinkled, presumably her way of wishing me well. Loken hesitated, praying to every god he knew that I wasn’t about to start a war. The cavalry followed suit behind Loken. The mages were resigned to hearing me splat to my death. The archers started to calculate their chances of thirty two against one instead of thirty three. The infantry, though. They actually looked as though I might be able to fight my way out of this.

  Our dungeon door creaked to a pathetic close behind me. The wooden beam fell back into place. Three of the bear’s cubs were there to escort me through the castle while the vampire prodded me in the back. I was led through the great hall. A quarter of the faces from our meeting with Draegor remained. I did my best to lock in on Mikael’s descriptions of who was who while trying to remember if any of them would prefer to have a new king and an alliance with the Kaseras instead of the vampires, but Mikael’s information wasn’t exactly current or extensive. He had a wealth of gossip on hand but little in the way of treasonous confessions from the nobles, no doubt because the bulk of the people he actually knew were merchants and travelers.

  I was pushed through a door, down a dark passageway with no source of light, up an unending helix staircase with aged steps which sloped at uneven angles until my heart burst with the climb. At long last we reached the top floor. A long, narrow corridor ran the full length of the castle. A short staircase stood nearby, leading up to a wonderfully thick and reinforced door.

  The vampire held a wine skin close to my face. “Open.”

  “Not thirsty.”

  Needless to say I was soon thrown to the ground, held down, coughing and spluttering, and trying not to gag on the awful northern delicacy that seemed to be more blood and less wine. There was a distinct taste of copper and burnt paper across my tongue. Vampire blood, unless I was very much mistaken. Somehow I got the impression that they weren’t using it to treat a few of my aches and pains.

  A jangle of keys rose through the helix staircase. The bear appeared, all six and a half feet of him, still wearing his mountain of furs. His shoulder pads bristled with mounds of tan-hide with a full compliment of brown hair shaking back and forth. From the rear he could’ve been mistaken for a three-headed giant. He lumbered up the stairs, one hand on the wall since there was no railing to heave himself up. I had fought a thumping pulse after the climb but this guy could barely handle it. Strange, then, if most of his life was spent going up and down the stupidly-long staircases. I hoped his knees would blow out from under him.

  The vampire hissed in my ear.

  “Keep it in your pants, ass-face,” I said.

  He prodded me in the back, a gentle enough tap from him which almost sent me crashing into the wall ahead. The bear reached the top-most step. Sucked in a dragon’s worth of air. Looked me up and down.

  �
�I’d like to speak to someone else,” I said. “Miss Kasera first, Desdola second, and Draegor third.”

  The bear socked me in the gut, winding me with a fist that was more stone than flesh. He muttered something I didn’t understand.

  “King Draegor,” translated the vampire.

  The bear handed his set of keys to one of the cubs. He climbed the short flight of stairs to the roof. Unlocked the door. An icy breeze barreled towards me. The two remaining cubs yanked my cloak and jacket free, then pried off my three lengths of sapphire-poisoned bits of cloth. The vampire hissed, turned his nose away like the smell might make him throw up and, while fighting off a shiver, I was pushed up onto the rooftop of Castle Brilskeep.

  The mist-covered lake lay ahead of me. A cloud-covered mountain range lay behind. Beside us stood the squat seaweed buildings of the city, though it was a city by northern standards and a glorified town by mine. Rowboats clanged against each other along the piers and moorings. Smoke rose from most of the homes – all a putrid smell of peat. I guessed that half of the people here would’ve spent their whole lives seeing nothing but dull grays and soiled greens.

  My senses started to betray me, the blood wine slowly taking effect and making me feel a little woozy and giddy all rolled into one.

  The bear prodded my hide armor. Chuckled. Said something disparaging which encouraged the cubs to chuckle as well. I had one cub on each side of me, holding my arms in place. The bear started to turn away from me, winding himself up for another gut-punch.

  I snapped my knee up, arcing sideways and connecting with his wrist, driving his strength into the cub to my left.

  Direct hit. Even though they both realized the shitty situation that was upon them at the same time, momentum was a bitch of a mistress. The cub scattered backward and dropped to his knees, spluttering. I swung my left fist up, clocking the guy holding my other arm right on the side of his jaw. Lights out.

  I ran. No hope in fighting the vampire so I gunned it for the edge of the castle. Three hundred feet straight down and hoping like hell that the vampire wasn’t going to chase after me if I somehow survived the landing.

  Didn’t make it. Not even close. The vampire wrenched me off my feet before I could make the leap and threw me onto my back, slamming me down with impressive speed. His jaws peeled back, his teeth a sickening yellow-orange, his eyes flaring with blood-lust. I threw both fists up to his jaw. Connected. Didn’t break his hold. Pivoted my hips to roll free. Couldn’t. Snapped my knees up to throw him over my head. He moved about an inch.

  He grabbed onto my armor and hurled me across the rooftop, me skidding to a stop and finding a kick coming straight towards my face. I reached up. Grabbed onto the cub’s foot just as his boot landed. Yanked him off balance, punched him in the balls, pulled him down.

  The bear and remaining cubs charged me. I sprung to my feet, dodged out of the way of the cubs and wanted the bear all to myself. He was in a full charge too, a haphazard tackle coming my way. He spread his arms out like a vulture’s wings, ready to ensnare me. I dropped low – keeping my neck braced – pivoted, caught his shoulder with mine as I tried to spring him into a head-over-heels flip but he was heavier than I could handle and his momentum overwhelmed me. We crashed, the landing more painful than I expected, but I was ready again. I grabbed the bear’s beard and made a move towards the edge of the castle.

  The vampire tackled me. The bear howled as I ripped a fistful of bristles from his face. I tried to throw the vampire off the ledge. He shoved me – three feet from falling to my death with a six foot push.

  You know how you’re prepared for a certain painful event and you’re okay with it because it was your idea, but then someone fucks with your game plan? Even though they might deliver the same result everything seems so much more terrifying because it’s no longer in your control. Yeah. I was fine with leaping off the edge of the castle. I was not fine with being pushed off it. But there I was, one haphazard misstep towards a one hundred yard drop, my arms flailing, my chest pushed out with my center of gravity now completely over the edge, and my tiptoes the only thing that connected me to something stable.

  The vampire latched onto my wrist. Yanked me back onto the roof, released, kicked me in the chest, and over the other edge I went. He caught me again, grabbing onto my ankle and throwing me back onto the rooftop.

  I was no longer shivering from the cold.

  The cubs hurried over. Picked me up. The bear stomped towards me with flecks of blood across his naked lips and cheeks. He had an ax raised in his hands and about to cleave me in two. I opened my mouth, ready to blast this fucker off the side of the castle.

  The vampire intercepted the bear, wrapping his fingers around the neck of the ax and reinforcing the bear’s back against my spell.

  In that split second I shelved my attack. It would’ve been a long-shot at best but an utter waste with the vampire bracing him.

  The vampire spoke calmly in his northern tongue. The bear seethed, grunting, trying to break the vampire’s grip around his ax. When he found he couldn’t he let go he slammed one fist into my ribs and another into the side of my face. I got him at the same time with a knee to the side of the ribs and I managed to pull away from the full force of the impact but even so, some hits land no matter how far away you see them coming. The bear staggered back, clutching his ribs while I massaged my face.

  The vampire dropped the hulking ax, it clanging on the rooftop, and flexed his poisoned finger tips. “You wouldn’t have made it.”

  “I might’ve.”

  He dragged me to the ledge, his grip on the back of my armor impressive as he pushed me out, my heels holding me up while my chest was pushed out into gravity’s reaching grasp. If he let go now I’d have a single gasp to cast a spell to soften my impact, but only if I knew exactly when he was going to let go.

  “There,” he hissed, with a point below. I caught sight of two archers and three axmen hiding behind a short building overlooking a narrow courtyard – my only means of escape if I fell from here. All five of them were looking up at us, ready for me to land and run towards them.

  The vampire pulled me back and flung me to the other side of the building. Grabbed me. Pushed me off like before. “And there,” he hissed. This time there was a noble with a sword and two mercenaries. The vampire hurled me into the middle of the rooftop like I weighed nothing at all.

  I climbed to my feet, my face stinging like hell and my ribs aching all over. “I’m here to speak to Miss Kasera first, Desdola second, and we’ll see about King Draegor third.” I’d like to say that I sounded commanding as I spoke but after the beating and near plummet to my death I admit I sounded a little shaky. “And I’ll remind you, you only have four days left until Miss Kasera returns to imperial lands. Unless all of us make it back intact an Isparian legion will turn this whole city into a wasteland. I’m going assume that’s exactly what you want since you’re trying to provoke me into a fight. But you’ve never fought a legion before, have you? A unit, maybe. A cohort, unlikely. An army, certainly not. But a legion? They won’t even need catapults to bring this castle down. Six thousand troops all charged with the same effect – to obliterate this castle – and this whole place is done for before anyone can escape. You try fighting that many people and no matter how good you think you are, if a hundred of them see you at the same time the only thing left of you will be a splatter of blood twenty yards wide. Now, fuck off with your scare tactics and take me to Miss Kasera.”

  The vampire glared at me, the whites of his eyes more of a murky red and sickly green. His lips peeled back, cracking with flecks of scabs and blood.

  A chilling voice flittered towards me. Male. Higher pitched than I remembered ever hearing. “Brayen?”

  I glanced over. Behind me stood a fifty five year old man, a ghostly apparition which seemed to be mostly cloud and mist than solid form. He looked an awful lot like me. More gaunt in the face, more pudge in his gut. A shake in one arm from tremors.
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  “Is that really you?” he asked. He sounded different. Not that he was using someone else’s voice but more like his voice had aged with the passing years.

  “You’re not him,” I said, before turning back to the vampire. “I assume Desdola is too scared to come and face me herself.”

  The bear and cubs seemed to be at a loss at who I was speaking to but the vampire could see my father as clear as day.

  “You’ve grown so tall,” croaked my old man.

  “Fuck you.”

  The vampire’s lips cracked into a grin.

  “You know he’s still alive, right?” I said.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better father,” said the ghost.

  I ignored him. The vampire started to cackle.

  “They’re telling me Zara will be next,” said the ghost. “And then the rest of you. I’m sorry, I can’t stop them.”

  “You are them, Desdola. What’s your plan, here? Spook us all into submission? Scare us so that we never want to come to the north ever again?”

  “No. They want revenge. Two enemies united against a common foe.”

  “Against Ispar? Good luck to them.”

  “Not just against Ispar. Against the Kaseras. One of your party is starting to turn against you already. One taste of what’s beyond and they will betray you completely. Your only hope of saving Miss Kasera is to betray them first.”

  I sized him up, taking in as much detail as I could, but the last time I caught a glimpse of that old fart was the morning I tried to join the company. I had twenty years of mangled memories filling in a lot of blanks. “You must be really bored up here to stake everything you have on mind games.”

  He shook his head, moving less like my father and more like a female with every subtle gesture. “How many whispers does it take before two best friends turn on each other?” He waited, looking apologetic as though he couldn’t help but say what he was commanded to. “They’re going to interrogate each of you. Someone will crack. And in four days only half of you will return.”

  “Then you’ll have a war on your hands.”