The Twelfth Chapter
- Holste -
20 days until the birth of a god
The 13th day of Spring-Fall, 1538
Thirty-three men are stood in formation before me, in three lines of eleven. All are stood to attention. Penk is stood just behind and to the left of me. My second is also at rigid attention. I have gathered my men to explain the situation we are in.
“Stand at ease.”
As one, the formation moves their left feet out so that they are a shoulders width apart, their hands, once held tightly down by their sides, slide around to be held clasped at their backs. The formation relaxes, and I continue. While they are still Fathers within the church of Calcia, they are now soldiers too. We may be religious, but we’re still a military unit.
“I have brought you here today to give you some news,” I tell them, pacing up and down before the ranks. “I am to grade you all on your work and abilities. The fifteen men with the lowest score will be taken from us. Those men will enter a combat arena along with another forty-five men. Of all of those me that go in, only fifteen will emerge. The rest will be lost.”
Some of the faces watching betray awkward feelings, while others remain blank and impassive.
“As you may well be wondering, the other forty-five men will come from other wings within the new Legion. Yes, we are not the entirety; we are merely a quarter. We are strong, and I have every confidence that all of our men that go in will come out. We are the best and most efficient of the four wings. One day, when our long training is complete, we will be part of the most prestigious force on Gatheck. We, my friends and brothers, will be the Raven Legion!”
With that revelation, the formation in front of me does not even flinch. No eyes seek others to exchange excited glances. We are well disciplined. We will all make it through. Calcia watches over us. That is something I should say; a though that should be spoken.
“Calcia watches over us. I know this, and I am confident that we will succeed. If you have any questions, please inform your team Leader, who will pass them on. I will answer them if I can. Formation, fall out!”
Leather boots stamp down and my men flood through the door at the side of the room, heading toward the mess; obviously going to talk about what they’ve just heard. I turn to Penk.
“So now you know. There is one other thing. It is not only my scores that count; Legion has been scoring people himself. It will be the average of the two values that determines who goes in.”
“By Calcia’s tears, doesn’t all that seem a bit harsh? Why do they have to fight each other?”
“Isn’t that obvious? When we fight the strongest come out alive,” I tell him. That’s much more like the church of Calcia should be; harsh. We don’t need the ‘fairness and understanding’ bent that has become popular in recent centuries.
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?”
I incline my head.
“I’m not sure I like that ethos,” Penk says, scratching his head.
Golthor-Penk was a good choice to replace Iniar; maybe I will not have to replace him with someone of stronger character at all. He knows of my affinity for the older ways, yet he still openly expresses his personal opinions.
“You don’t have to, Golthor. It may not be nice but it is a fact of nature.”
He raises his eyebrows at me, leaving me with no response. He does seem mighty calm for saying that he’ll be in there too. Shit. I’d better do some backtracking, and a little damage control.
“Oh, I forgot to say, there’ll be an extra eight men in there too.”
“Why does that worry me?” asks Penk, as he smiles awkwardly and brow furrows.
“The main squad’s leader and his second in command from every wing will be in there also. Penk, you and I will be fighting for our lives soon enough. I’m sorry.”
I can see it in his eyes. I’ve never seen Penk this worried before. But I know that when the time comes he’ll be a rock, unshakable in his belief. It’s the way he is, but until then, he’ll be a wreck.
- Muzbeth -
“What is this?” I bellow at the thirty or so vampires that surround Summer and I. They all brandish weapons and I can sense a bloodlust about them. They are so close to attacking us.
A solitary vampire steps forward, he is dressed in a long coat, similar to Kellum’s, but less extravagant and a little shorter. He is barefoot, though his feet are caked in mud. There are several scars on the dead man’s head. The coat is pulled tightly around his slender frame, and buttoned up the front. In his hands he clutches a long curved blade, which is covered in streaks of blood and mud. His is the only blade of the group, as the others carry nothing more than crude cudgels. He addresses me with confidence.
“State your business in Tomam.”
I scowl at this sudden and new threat.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I ask, advancing upon whom I assume is their leader.
In agitation his grip tightens on the sword handle, turning his already pale skin bone white.
“Answer our questions or we will kill you right here, right now,” he says through his tightly gritted teeth. His canines are much larger than they should be, just like mine and Kellum’s. He switches his grip on the weapon.
“I am Lys-Karalis, so just try it, and then we’ll see how far you get!”
At that little piece of news the entire group encircling us visibly wilts and their leader takes a comforting step away from me, and one step closer to his allies. Now I will ask my questions.
“Now, what are you doing here? What is your purpose?”
“We, my Lys-Karalis, are bleeding this city dry. I apologise for our confrontation.”
Now his confidence is gone, he looks at my feet rather than looking at me in the eye.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, but instantly wish I hadn’t. It makes me look like I actually care about the humans here.
“It is what we wanted to do. We have banded together so that we can claim Gatheck as our own. We have had no contact with the Lys-Karalis for some seasons now. All we wanted was to take our place as the dominant species of Gatheck.”
Did they think for one moment that they could dominate their Lys-Karalis, let alone me? How stupid of them. They are even more foolish for taking my word alone that I‘m a Lys-Karalis. They are bloody fools. They should be more careful.
“How long have you been here?” I ask.
“Just coming up to a half-season,” he says as his head drops a little further.
“If you have been here so long, why is this place not burned to the ground?”
“We planned on taking this city my ‘Karalis; we were killing off its inhabitants so that we could take it for our own.”
“And what will you eat once all of the ‘civilians’ are dead?” Summer asks. Her point is a valid one. A murmur passes through the vampires, and it takes an instant for me to figure out that they are objecting to Summer.
The vampire with the scarred head wrinkles his nose and once again speaks through his gritted teeth. I can tell he wants to say or do something, but he schools himself.
“I am sorry my ‘Karalis, we have failed you. My name is Sczeran, and I, and those that follow me, are yours to command as you see fit.”
“It is good to find that you know your place. I am the Lys-Karalis Muzbeth, and I will lead you to victory over this city!”
***
“Niman, left! Zinne, centre! Haydra, right! Orren, up! Take three with you each. Search every building. I want everyone else searching the perimeter, encircle this sodden shit-hole of a city. Any living that approaches should be herded in, and any that try to escape should be killed. You all understand. Go! Sczeran, to me.”
Far less than an hour has passed since the vampires revealed themselves to us, but they seem to be happy enough to go along with my plans for this place. The only one among them that I am worried about is Sczeran. He has ideas above his post, I think.
With the orders now given, the pack of vampires assembled in front of me splits, twelve into the city, four above it, and the rest to the trees around this once great city. Sczeran lopes up to me, eyes down, face glum. He bows to me. Somehow it seems as though it is a sarcastic bow; almost as if he does not really wish to recognise my authority.
“Sczeran, my mistress is here also.”
“She is alive, my ‘Karalis. The dead never kneel before the living,” he informs me. I catch him shoot a glance at her, before his gaze returns to the ground.
“You do,” I tell him. “Kneel.”
“My ‘Karalis?”
“Exactly. I am your ‘Karalis. She is therefore your Queen. Kneel. Now.”
And with that he drops to one knee, head down, both hands on the higher knee, in front of Summer. Her arm snakes its way around my waist, and she plants a kiss upon my cheek.
“Get up Sczeran.”
“My ‘Karalis. What do you wish of me?”
“Summer and I are going to the blacksmith’s house; it is already empty. You are to make sure none disturb us. We shall leave this place at wanemoon. Make sure none of the city folk are living when we do. In fact, you should have them turned. We need to bolster our numbers.”
“We are abandoning everything we have worked for here? Why?” Sczeran asks, indignantly, his eyes coming up to meet mine once more.
I stare him back down, needing to say nothing.
“Very good my ‘Karalis, though I see no reason for me to stand guard outside the smithy. None shall disturb you.”
“True, and you will be there to make sure. Understand.”
That wasn’t a question. Without waiting for a sarcastic answer, I lead Summer into the house, past the cold and dead furnace.
Once we are inside and I have replaced the hallway floor, I force the front door back into its rightful position, shutting the world out. Summer immediately shoves me against the door and begins to kiss me, her tongue massaging mine, flicking across my pointed teeth. She makes the magic flow instantly.
I lift her into my arms and carry her deeper into the house, searching for the blacksmith’s bed.
19 days until the birth of a god
The 14th day of Spring-Fall, 1538
It is just past wanemoon, and naturally it is dark outside. The sky is clouded still from the vampires’ weather casting from earlier, and the glow of the full moon can barely be seen through the thick bank in this first hour of the day.
Summer and I leave the dead man’s house. We’ve redressed ourselves with the clothing found within. Now I’m sporting a waxed frock coat, leather jerkin, black trousers and boots to match. I’m also wearing a black waxed rain hat, wide brimmed to keep water from the blacksmith’s face.
Summer now dons a long gown, probably worn by the blacksmith’s wife on very special occasions. It isn’t tailored to fit Summer and so her bosom is tightly packed in. My claws had let the stitching out at the sides in order to give her more breathing room. The dress is black and deep red, but has a multi-layered skirt, keeping her warm. Around her shoulders she has a bright red shawl, and in her long curly brown hair she has tied a thick deep red ribbon.
Sczeran turns to look at us as we leave the house, his frustration at being posted as guard evident in his stance and face. He marches over to us as we walk slowly back to the main street, avoiding the stacks of ore and timber.
“Muzbeth, what are your wishes?” he asks when we reach him.
“Have all the survivors been added to our number?”
“Yes my ‘Karalis. I have had a team cast. We found no living humans within the city. None,” he says, looking poignantly at Summer. Is he summing her up?
“Have you something to say Sczeran?”
“No my Lord, it is just that you led me to believe that... my ‘Lady’ was human. I was merely trying to figure out what species she is. My apologies.”
“Sczeran, she is human. What makes you think otherwise?” I ask.
“The casting team, my ‘Karalis, they found no living humans. None at all,” he explains.
“Then there was a mistake. Search the city once more; make sure none are left alive. Quickly!”
With that Sczeran sprints off into the tree line to organise a second search. I turn to Summer.
“I wonder what that was all about.”
“Probably just mere incompetence,” Summer says with a smile. “Listen, honey, I’ve been thinking…” She pauses, evidently unsure as to whether or not she really wants to tell me. I want her to.
“Go on, I’m intrigued,” I encourage.
“What would you say to Godhood? I mean proper Godhood, not just being a Lys-Karalis. I’m talking servants, unlimited power, and me by your side forever and all eternity.”
Where did that come from? Not that I wouldn’t like the power. I was born to it, if that’s the right word.
“I’ll admit that it would be an interesting scenario.”
“Think on it, sweet, but in the meantime I have some suggestions for our immediate future.”
I smile, indicating she should keep talking.
***
I cast my magic again and the flames lick out from my hands, though they do not cause me any pain. My magic keeps the flames from burning me.
I launch the small globes of fire sat at my outfacing palms at a building which is wedged in between the branches of two trees. They streak across the roofs and set the tree-house alight.
There is a lot of smoke and steam due to everything being so wet, but as I do not need to breathe that is not a problem. Summer however found the heat and cloying smoke too much and headed north toward the edge of the woods. We’ll meet her there shortly, once our job here is complete. More fire flashes past me, leaping from the hands of the vampires around me.
The city is burning violently and beautifully. It will be visible from miles away; a vast column of black smoke rising into the night sky, illuminated from beneath by the flickering red light of flame. I know that people will soon be coming. The sight reminds me of the village we burned back on the Cracked Isles.
The city-folk we turned haven’t risen yet, so I’ve sent a party of ten to go and meet Summer, taking the corpses with them.
There are vampires up in the trees, ripping the buildings down, they crash to the floor every few moments or so, shaking the ground beneath my feet.
Less than a mid-hour later and not a single building still stands. All have been ripped asunder by flame and vampire. The heat emanating from the city is astounding, though unfortunately I lost one of the climbing vampires to it. She managed to drop down into the town and got cut off by the fast spreading flame. She died quickly as her dead body caught fire. Her demon would have been delivered back to Hell by the flames. Now there is one less able body to do my bidding, and that is all that bothers me.
So far I’ve managed to keep the fire from spreading to the woods that surround the erstwhile city.
‘Erstwhile’. I think I learned that word from Kellum. I wonder if he found the other Lys-Karalis. I wonder how he and Summer knew each other.
But now is the time to put an end to the raging inferno before me. I call the twenty or so remaining vampires to my side, while moving away from the city and into the relative protection of the northern tree front.
We all link hands in a large circle, innately knowing how to generate a Link-Shell; the demons within us all working in tandem. I feel the power of twenty-three demons, not including my own, flow into me. The power now welling within me is tangible, and it takes me less than instant to cast, as so much power is at my disposal. Suddenly a crack of lightning splits the sky, followed almost immediately by the deep growl of thunder.
As suddenly as the storm appears it begins to pour down with rain. ‘Torrential’ is the best way to describe it. The streams around here will swell and break their tiny banks. The trees will grow faster, from both the excess of magic and water. These woods will thrive now, no longer hindered by the city tha
t would have been constantly drawing from it.
I return to my previous location within the city to make sure the fires are dying out. The monsoon-like rains are dousing everything thoroughly. Satisfied that the fire will die out soon, I lead the remaining vampires north, to the meeting place where I will find Summer. The ground is wet and muddy already, but my heightened senses stop me slipping and falling. I do not run, though I do wish to get to Summer more hastily, so I up the pace slightly, weaving a way through the trees and mud and sludge, forging my way to the northern-most trees.
With just a few miles left to cover, a smell reaches my nostrils. It is something on the air that sets my naturally still heart racing with magic; it is like the smell of roses, of sweet wine, or of fresh blood. I smell Summer, my love.
I up the increase our speed again, knowing that the vampires following me will be able to keep up. Soon the canopy above my head begins to lighten, despite night having fallen. The lightening effect is the work of the beam of light that shines on the Heart directly from the Lighthouse. I know I’ll soon be out of the woods and into the warm arms of my woman.
Eventually I break from the trees and glance about, my eyes locking on Summer straight away. I rush over to her and kiss her passionately; a long lingering kiss. We’ve only been apart for just over an hour and a mid-, but that time was too long. I pull away, hug her and look into her sparkling green eyes. I can see that she loves me too.
I turn to look at the fifty or so vampires around us. Those that got turned in Tomam have awoken and are now looking to the person with the most power for direction. I notice that there are two mangled corpses on the floor, once vampires no doubt. I look to Summer for the answer. She obliges.
“They were the freshly turned, they wanted living blood, and as the only living thing here, and looking fairly fragile and defenceless as I do, they attacked. I killed two before the rest of them figured out that it was not a good idea to attack me.”
The Vampire's Heart Page 15
