by Jackson Lear
The sun set to our rear, the light snuffed out completely by the surrounding mountain peaks. The afternoon sky seemed to disappear almost in a blink, our vision shifting to shades of grey while the frenzied beasts of war chased after us still with a little light to guide their way.
“To the left!” shouted Jarmella. The vanguard veered off the road. The northerners stumbled in surprise, unsure of what the hell was going on and if this was our last stand. Not quite. It was the final set of climbable trees before the mountain took over.
“Gaynun, Menrihk – up!”
The two spotters climbed, wrapped their legs around the trunks and locked their ankles, searching for any sign of movement.
“Nothing but trees,” said Gaynun.
“The mountain then. What can you see?”
“I’m … not much of a mountain climber. There are trees, boulders, steep slopes … evidence of a couple of rockslides.”
“Torunn, is this the pass?”
Torunn staggered over, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Aye, this is one of the ways up.”
For his sake he better not tell us that there were a dozen ones closer to Faersrock.
The horn blasted again, a quick double burst in a repeating pattern.
“What does that mean?” asked Jarmella.
“They know where we are,” said Torunn.
Ithka hurried back to us, scurrying to the trees alongside the path while pointing to the mountain. Torunn quizzed him.
“He’s found the way up. It’s still clear.”
Jarmella furrowed her eyebrows, maintaining a stern gaze for as long as possible. “If we walk along the coast, how long will it take us to reach Ice Bridge?”
“Five days,” said Torunn.
“You said it was five days this morning.”
“Aye. You’ve been slow and we’ve gone away from fjord.”
“How long will it take us if we go over the mountain?”
“Three days.”
“Is there anything to eat up there?”
“Goats. Birds. Hares.”
The cavalry horn blasted again. Everyone was still struggling to catch their breath.
“Gods damn it,” muttered Jarmella. “Right. Up we go.”
I’ve climbed stairs before. I’ve climbed up the side of buildings. I’ve been up trees and hauled myself along ropes suspended between two distant towers and had to wade through mud that sapped more of my strength than I ever thought was possible. But this … holy shit, it was awful. The way up Ithka had found began by us squeezing between two boulders which had fallen from the top of the mountain. A couple of the larger men and one buxom woman couldn’t fit between them. We threw rope over the house-sized rocks and pulled these northerners up, burning more time than we desired but at least gaining a reasonable defense against the cavalry. Not so much of a defense against acrobatic vampires.
The gravel-like pebbles left behind had compacted over time and gave us something to steady our grip. We hauled ourselves up along tree roots that jutted out of the ground as the trees themselves grew at a forty five degree angle. To our left and right were tufts of grass and thistles which became invisible in the failing light. Just about everyone had called for a lantern, right up until another blast from the cavalry horn forced us to climb up the side of the mountain in darkness, afraid of being spotted by the enemy below. How the hell Magnus and Ivar were going to find us was anyone’s guess.
For once the vanguard were outpacing the northerners, their youthful bodies and regimented exercise beating the aging haggards easily. It was a sobering indication of what I faced in ten, certainly twenty years.
Jarmella dropped to one knee. Searched the base of the mountain. “Menrihk?”
“I don’t hear them.”
Behind us, everyone else collapsed onto their backs, gasping for breath.
“Two minutes, okay?” murmured Jarmella. “And rotate on the stretchers. Gaynun? Anything happening with the riders?”
“No,” in more of a wheeze than spoken word.
“When did you last check?”
Gaynun grunted, rolled over, lifted the seeing rod to one eye. “Nothing’s happening with the riders.”
Saskia started to murmur. “…mella …?”
Jarmella staggered over. “I’m here.”
“Please …”
Jarmella rested her hand on Saskia’s forehead. “She’s freezing.”
“Boiling …” Saskia said.
Jarmella looked to me. “Give me your hand.”
I held it out. Jarmella pressed the wrap of sapphire poison against Saskia. Saskia pulled back, retreating like she had been swabbed with lemon juice on an open cut.
“She still has a pulse,” said Jarmella.
“Vampires do. It’s slow and deathly faint but you do sometimes feel it. The young ones beat faster.”
“She still feels human.”
Saskia snapped at my hand. I yanked it back, unwilling to find out what would happen to me if I was bitten by something that had yet to completely turn.
“We should kill her,” whispered Jarmella.
“If we have any hope of getting Loken or Berik then we need the blood of a vampire to bring us back from the brink of death. We’re going to lose a lot of people if we don’t have her with us.”
“She’s slowing us down.”
I was in no mood to argue.
“Fine. It’s your turn on her stretcher. You fall behind, it’s your fault. Vanguard? Time’s up.”
The following two hours were about as pleasant as southern fever. Waves of heat and shivering cold killed our energy. Limbs turned numb. The scattering snowfall clouded our vision. You could see everyone’s breath hanging in the air. Everyone except for Saskia’s. She gasped and shuddered, jolting from side to side from a violent nightmare while Kilmur and I carried her. Kilmur had volunteered to help me. How kind of him.
“Sir?”
“Conserve your strength, Kilmur. You’re gonna need it.”
“Yes, sir.”
He conserved it for all of five minutes.
“Is it true you and your company hunted down four vampires in Galinnia out of revenge?”
“Yeah.”
“And you also saved Miss Kasera’s life from a mercenary ambush team in Torne?”
“More or less.”
“And that you also dined privately with Governor Gustali in his own mansion?”
“I did.”
Kilmur shook his head in bewilderment. “I know it’s not common, sir, but could I shake your hand?”
“My hands are kinda busy right now.”
“I know, but when we stop – could I?”
“That depends. Berik is still in Brilskeep. He’s either dead or a prisoner. There’s a good chance the vampires aren’t there right now so we have some time to get him back before the cavalry we’re hunting returns with Loken – who will likely be turned into a vampire before the end of autumn and will surely know that we left Berik behind and that we might be trying to get him back. So my question is: What do you think we should do about Berik?”
Judging by the lengthy silence and unsure tone, he seemed like he was desperately trying to find the answer I wanted to hear instead of saying what he truly believed. It was made all the worse because we were within ear shot of most of the vanguard. “We should rescue him.”
“How?”
“If we reach Ice Bridge in time we can ambush the cavalry and go in disguise back to Brilskeep. We capture any of the new guards we come across, question them quickly to find out if Berik is still alive and where he’s being held, and force them to take us to him.”
“Is that what you would do or what you think I would do?”
“… It’s what I would do.”
“Language barrier aside, how many of us or our guides can ride horses well enough to pass for members of Draegor’s cavalry?”
He fell quiet with that question. “What would you do, sir?”
Several h
eads turned my way. “I’d like to find out who the new king is before figuring that out. And uncover whose been fucking with us.”
Kilmur glanced around. “Someone’s been fucking with us?”
“We were ambushed by a vampire, taunted by a seer who wasn’t found during a full castle raid, aided by a mercenary queen, and abandoned by a would-be king in the middle of his own town. Someone’s up to no good and have been using us to further some kind of plan of their own. I’d like to find out who and what it is.”
Saskia hissed again, my wraps far too close to her head but she was too weak to do anything about it.
“Loken’s dead, isn’t he, sir?”
“Conserve your strength. We’re all going to have a rougher time than him.”
Ithka came back with a message. “Torunn, uh … path … head.”
“Torunn says there’s a path ahead?”
Ithka gave me a quick nod. “Torunn says path head.”
“Thank you.”
“Torunn says vampire … membee.”
“Maybe?”
Jarmella staggered forward like her lungs were about to collapse. “Raike. Go up ahead and kill any vampire that comes our way. Odalis. Take Raike’s position with the stretcher. Wilbur. How much of their language do you understand?”
“A few words.”
“A few words out of everything they say?”
“Yes.”
“Go with Raike. Keep listening to whatever the northerners are saying in case it’s different to what we’re being told.”
We followed Ithka to the front of the pack and enjoyed ten minutes of peace and quiet.
“Sir?”
“Unless you saw something that warrants a sword being drawn, knock it off.” Wilbur fell quiet. I silently thanked every god out there.
Three days had passed since we were kidnapped. At best we had three more to go. I had to wonder if there was a new king already, and if they had just called for every raider in the land to immediately set sail for their ancient lands and reclaim it for the glory of his new kingdom.
“Sir?”
I stopped. Traced Wilbur’s point north of here.
“Is that what you were talking about?”
“Yeah. That qualifies.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Jarmella lit a lantern, holding it at arm’s reach to illuminate the two bodies hanging from a tree. Naked, twisting slowly in the wind, the rope gnawing and cracking, the snow piled up on their shoulders. Their skin had shrunk, pulled inwards like they had been sucked of all fluids. Bite marks on their femoral artery, arms, wrists, and neck. Each puncture wound was surrounded by a dark green spread of decay, a toxin which must’ve helped to paralyze the man and woman.
I looked to Torunn. “Does anyone know them?”
He shook his head. Some of the northerners gestured with religious motions, took a deep breath, and let the bodies be.
Jarmella pointed her chin towards the couple. “Adalyn?”
“They’re … dead?”
“Yeah, we need more than that.”
“By vampires.”
I trekked forward. Sword out, just in case. There was no need to check the bodies for any warmth. Even from twenty yards away it was obvious that they had been dead for at least a month. Up close I got a better idea of how many vampires had attacked them and how it happened. Scratches from nails raked across their bodies, a frenzy of ripping the clothes off these two as fast as they could. The woman’s arm looked broken at the elbow and wrist, her forehead banged up. Something slammed into her back, knocking her down as she ran. The man had taken a heavy impact against his shoulder. Also probably running. Also probably knocked over. Five sets of bite marks on him. Four on her. Canine marks closer to each other on three of the arms. I measured the marks with a finger against my own teeth. Got the feeling that three sets of teeth belonged to children.
I called Adalyn over. “Can you open your mouth? I need to measure the distance of your teeth compared to these wounds?”
“What? Why me?”
“Because you’re little and have a sense of humor.”
“So you’re just going to stick your finger in my mouth and measure my teeth?”
“The distance between them, yes. Open up.”
She glanced back to the crowd watching us. “I just want to make it clear that as far as foreplay goes this is … different.” She opened her mouth. Stared at the twisting bodies in case they jumped at her. And might’ve been tempted to snap at my finger.
“Thank you.”
“Yeah, sure. Anything else you plan on measuring while I’m here?”
“Torunn? I need to borrow Ithka for a moment.”
Adalyn kept one eye on me and the other on the bodies. “This is getting weird.”
Sure enough, three sets of bite marks were smaller than both Adalyn and Ithka’s. Potentially nine vampires. Three youngsters who probably didn’t have much strength in them but they didn’t need it if they were fast. The remaining six belonged to adults. I found only one puncture wound on the necks, that one belonging to the woman. The man’s throat was untouched. Perhaps there was a hierarchy among the vampires – the leader got the neck, drank their fill, and told everyone else to leave the neck of the man alone. A waste, clearly, but maybe that was intentional to keep everyone else in line.
I pulled Saskia over to see if she could offer any insight into the victims. She remained locked in a state of nausea, eyelids half open, groaning, not responding to any external stimuli.
“She’s turning,” whispered Jarmella.
“We have time.”
I looked to the northerners. “Does anyone know of any children vampires in the area?”
The buxom woman nodded and regaled us in broken Isparian with a horror story. If children in Vasslehün wandered off they were abducted. Sometimes the parents went mad and wandered off as well to find them. Sometimes they were set upon by vampires and the parents later hunted and turned their own kids so they could stay together as a happy family. Sometimes it was the kids who turned their parents. Either way it seemed like it was merely a tale with no solid details.
“Korla,” muttered one of the northerners.
I nodded with them. “Korla.” Turned to the vanguard. “They died a month ago. The only footprints here are ours and there’s no obvious sign of any vampire being nearby.”
Gaynun searched the surrounding area with his seeing rod.
“Anything?” asked Jarmella.
“Maybe. Two blobs are moving along our tracks a few miles back. Might be Magnus and Ivar.”
“Do you see bows or packs on them?”
“From this distance and in this light I see blobs.”
Jarmella said: “All right. Everyone? If you haven’t done so already, start charging your best attack spell. We’re gonna need them.”
The northerners formed a quick huddle. Started pointing this way and that. Lots of whispering. Impossible to make out from this distance were it not for Menrihk looking fairly obvious with his hand planted against his ear and a bronze wire pointed at our guides.
“They’re talking about food. A little about vampires.”
The archers twirled their bows, peering across the flat stretch of mountain which may actually allow us to catch our breath.
“Nothing about us?” asked Jarmella.
“Nothing pleasant. A couple of ‘fuck ‘em’s, I think. I don’t know. Lindum was the translator.”
“I can have a go,” said Odalis, stepping up.
Jarmella held back a yawn as the long hours drained her.
“I grew up near Lietsmar,” said Odalis.
“So did Menrihk.”
“No harm in trying,” said Odalis.
Jarmella’s yawn finally came out. “You each have five minutes to prove your worth. Odalis first.”
Disgruntled at losing his new job, Menrihk passed the listening wire to Odalis.
All four northern archers set off at a quick pace, one
pair moving north, the other east.
I turned to Jarmella. “I need a favor.”
She arched an eyebrow. Practically asleep on her feet, waiting for me to get on with it.
“The people we’re with know Agnarr better than we do. I don’t expect them to explicitly tell me where he went last night or what he had planned for us but some of them might be in on it. I need your help to find out who we should distrust.”
She spied me carefully.
“Who of them we should distrust.”
“What do you need?”
“Who’s your best hunter?”
“Dalo.”
“Someone who doesn’t have a broken leg.”
“You really want to show up Agnarr’s people by sending some of ours to hunt in the dark?”
“Can our people do it?”
Jarmella paused, half relieved that we might be able to have to cooked meat that night, half frustrated that we still had fifty miles of climbing up and down a mountain to go. “Leif? Arvid? It’s competition time. You are to come back with the exact same number of animals as the northern hunters.”
Leif and Arvid stared back at Jarmella. “How are we going to know their exact number?”
“I don’t know. Cheat if you have to.”
“All right, but …”
“No ‘but’s. Just make it happen.”
The two archers didn’t seem all that confident, yet with a quick nod they set off to claim our dinner.
“Any more favors?” asked Jarmella.
The four northern hunters returned carrying three hares and looked pretty pleased with themselves. It wasn’t anywhere near enough food to feed all of us or even all of them but even so it was damn impressive. Then Leif and Arvid ballsed it up by returning with a goat. Members of the vanguard practically cheered. The northerners sat in a quiet glare, muttering to themselves about the southerners using trickery to prove their worth.
“I said the exact same number,” whispered Jarmella.
“We tried. We caught this thing in ten minutes and had to wait for them to catch up. It took them an hour to actually land something and by then every crunch in the snow sounded like a vampire sneaking up on us. We can put it back if you like.”
