by Toni Cox
He finished his own wine, stood and came around the table to move the chair for her. She was a little unsteady on her feet for a moment and he reached for her, taking her arm to steady her. Again, the contact was brief, but Maia was acutely aware of it.
Riker briefly spoke with Commander Ridgewell to let him know where they were going. Rothea Goodheart was assigned to shadow them at a distance; a safety precaution Riker had put into place after they left Featherstone Inn.
They walked down the wide streets of Thala Yll side by side. Crystal lanterns lit their way, as well as the lights from the houses they passed. Thala Yll’s houses were built in a style similar to the houses in Braérn; exposed timber frame with whitewashed brick. However, unlike Braérn, Thala Yll’s streets were lined with tall trees and every house seemed to have its own garden, most with fruit trees, berry bushes and other greenery. This time of the year, however, the trees were only now beginning to sprout their new leaves. Tiny glass baubles with glittering crystals of different colours hung from some of the trees they passed. Maia also noticed Lumina in almost every window and the flowers glowed a bright blue this time of evening.
They reached the stables and Riker spoke to the Horse Master on duty. He quickly opened the barn doors to admit them and then shut them behind them for privacy. Maia’s pulse quickened when she realised that Rothea had been left outside and she was now completely alone with Riker. Under any other circumstances, this would have been deemed inappropriate.
Fire whinnied, snorted as he got her scent, and she hurried to him, glad for the distraction. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his red mane. He snorted again, aware of her fluttering heart, but stood still until Maia was ready to let him go. She entered the stable, checked his water and hay net, before finding her bag with the brushes. She spent some time brushing him, picking out his hooves, wiping his face, but it was not enough to distract her from the figure of Riker casually leaning against the doorpost of the stable, watching her. Eventually she decided that the best course of action would be to retreat to the safety of her own room.
“Thank you, Riker, I am done now. I am sorry you had to accompany me. I am sure you are as tired as I am and looking forward to your bed.”
“Not at all, My Lady, it is always a pleasure to be in your company. Come,” he said, offering her his arm. “Let me escort you to your quarters.”
Hesitantly she hooked herself into his arm and he led the way out. She tried to make sense of her feelings. Riker was polite, tactful, and always acted with decorum when it came to dealing with her, although he could be a little forward on occasion. He did not confirm his feelings for her, nor did he make any obvious suggestions or advances. Yet he had awoken something within her and she did not know how to deal with it. She looked up at him and could see a smile play around his lips. It made her wonder if it would be such a bad thing.
Maybe it would be better to forget about Blaid, which was clearly what he had done, and get on with her life. Riker would be a good match for her and, if he could make her feel this way, then maybe she did have feelings for him too. No other man, besides Blaid, had ever made her feel anything. However, the thought of forgetting about Blaid hurt in ways she could not describe. The thought of never seeing him again was enough to bring tears to her eyes. Could she ever be happy without him?
The Horse Master opened the door for them and Rothea was beside them immediately.
“Lady Maia, let us make haste, it seems there are wolves around this evening.”
Riker took the lead, but never let go of Maia’s hand. Rothea brought up the rear and they quickly walked back to the guesthouse. They reached it without incident; it seemed the wolves were only on the outskirts of the city. Maia attempted to sense their Eläm, but did not find them.
At the door to her room, Riker bowed to her and kissed her hand.
“Good night, My Lady. Rothea will be in the room opposite; she will be at your service should you need anything.”
He walked down the passage to his own room. Feeling sad and lonely, she retired to her bed, but she was plagued by dreams of wolves in the city and did not sleep well.
He stalked through the thick underbrush close to the stream he had been following. The scent was strong here, but already two days old. He briefly paused to drink from the stream, turned into the direction his prey went and picked up the pace. He was worried; they were getting closer and closer to the city and he feared for the safety of the people. The urge to kill was strong within him and he was looking forward to sinking his fangs into their rancid flesh.
Blaid shook his head. He had been in wolf form too long; it started to affect his thinking. Tracking was easier with the black wolf’s sharp senses and he could not afford to lose the trail. He had been tracking these three for over a Moon. They were cunning and fast and they knew he was following them. Since he first spotted them, they had killed only animals; always drinking their blood first, then cutting up the meat and eating it either raw, or dried the following day when they could not hunt. Their habits disgusted him, although he would himself eat meat raw if in wolf form.
So far, they had stayed away from any settlements. This was the first time they had gotten so close to a city. Thala Yll was large, spread over a wide area with outlying homesteads all around the city. To hunt there would be easy for the Vampyres. He growled and picked up the pace. He wished he could use his shadow travel, but he was afraid he would lose their scent, or they would change direction.
As it darkened, he emerged from the forest into the more open plain to the west of Grildor-Bron Forest. The area was home to small woodlands and freestanding trees, but most of it was prime grazing land for the animals bred here. This made it easier for him to follow the trail of the three Vampyres that had so far managed to outrun him. He increased his speed, savouring the freedom to run unchecked and only paused once, briefly, to sniff at a dead heifer. Its blood had been drained in a hurry, but no meat had been taken. They were hungry; he knew they had not fed for five days. The blood would keep them going until they found something more substantial to eat.
He followed their trail all night. They were weaving across the grazing land, killing as they ran, always just drinking the blood. They were closing in on Thala Yll carefully, not taking any chances, but Blaid assumed their ultimate goal was to attack there.
He had spent the last six Moons tracking Vampyres. No one knew for sure how many of them had escaped the war, but from what he had learned, at least a thousand left the battle before it finished and had joined up with smaller forces stationed all over Grildor. He had thus far exterminated three such groups; a total number of fifty-seven Vampyres. They were clever and hard to kill and he had hardly any rest since the war.
These three he followed now, were his biggest challenge yet; they were of the other kind of Vampyre. If he remembered correctly, Lord Longshadow had called them Generals. The common Vampyres were about as tall as an Elf, thin and wiry, with skin stretched tight over their angular bones. Their mouths seemed to protrude somewhat, making their fangs more noticeable. The Generals on the other hand were taller, more muscular, and less grotesque. He assumed, on Naylera, these would probably be described as handsome. They were also a lot more intelligent.
He faltered in his stride for just a moment at the thought of Maia’s father. Anger surged through his veins and he then lengthened his stride even more. The Vampyres needed to be killed; that was his job, which was what he needed to concentrate on. They were the threat and it needed to be eliminated.
By morning, the city came into view. During the night, he had lost the spoor for a while; they went into a river and it had taken him over an hour of running up and down the banks before he picked up their spoor again. By the time he caught up with them, they had entered the waters of a lake on the outskirts of the city. He now sat at the place where they had entered the water.
Vampyres could breathe, but they did not need to very often. The air on their volcanic
planet was such; it could be toxic in large quantities. Their bodies were designed to live without breathing for a long time. He believed this to be at least two or three days, before they actually had to take a breath. Here on Elveron, with the air quality as it was, he had learned they could go five or six days without breathing, if they had to.
The lake was not large - he could see the opposite shore - but it was wedged between hills and surrounded by trees. It was possible that the Vampyres could exit the lake unseen. He sat watching the lake for another short while, and then decided it might be wiser to circle the lake and wait on the opposite shore, closer to the city.
By noon, he found himself a shady oak to lie beneath. The cattle that grazed on the fields here had gotten used to him by now and were contently grazing on the new spring grass. He was using the cattle, as much as his own senses, to look out for the Vampyres. Should he miss them, the cattle would sound the alarm when the Vampyres got too near. Moreover, he desperately needed the rest; they had been on the run for days, never sleeping. Sleeping seemed to be another thing Vampyres seldom did. He loathed them more and more each day.
Suddenly he looked up, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. The herd carried on grazing; nothing had disturbed them. Nevertheless, something had alerted him and he scanned the surrounding countryside. After a while, he rose and paced along the water’s edge. The feeling that something was wrong grew stronger, but he could find no physical evidence of the Vampyres having left the lake.
Agitated, anger building within his chest, he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks; something was making him tense with anticipation. He smelled the air, but could barely pick up the scent. He looked towards the city, but could not see anything. His body started to tremble.
She was here!
He could sense it deep within his being. Excitement and panic warred within him. He so desperately wanted to see her, feel her, smell her. But if he let those Vampyres slip through his clutches that could endanger not just the people of Thala Yll, but Maia as well. He growled his indecision at the lake. The thick, black fur around his neck bristled and the cattle around him startled, running away from him. Frustrated, he let out a short howl and then turned towards the city. He remained in his wolf form, staying away from the roads and the Herd Keepers, and always scanning the ground and surroundings for signs of the Vampyres.
It was dusk when he reached the city. Now that he was so close, he could pick up her scent along the road. It was faint, but it made his blood turn to lava in his veins. He slunk around the houses, keeping to the shadows; he could not afford to be seen.
He had traced her scent down the main road of the city to their Grand Hall. From there she had been taken to a guesthouse. There had been comings and goings during the early evening, but Blaid did not know any of them. At one point, a man of the Guard he recognised from the battlefield emerged from the house and had a brief word with a man dressed in the colours of the Regiment. For reasons he could not fathom, the Guard made him feel like he wanted to rip his throat out. He shook his head in frustration; the wolf was taking over, he would really have to spend more time in his own body.
As the evening progressed, the lights within Thala House were dimmed and the streets emptied. He noticed a small light through one of the windows on the ground floor of the guesthouse and, making sure that no one was in sight, made the change to his own body. He stood there for a moment, shivering in his nakedness, until he was accustomed to standing on two legs. Then he went over to the window to peer inside.
His heart nearly stopped. She sat at a small table, the light from the candle playing with the colours of her hair. She was dressed all in black; travelling clothes, he presumed; the leather hugging her figure to perfection, showing off her perfect form. She was beautiful.
He gritted his teeth as he watched the Guard he had seen earlier pour her another glass of wine. Maia! he thought, trying to push the mental call to her. He watched her blush at the Guard’s words.
Suddenly his senses picked up a strange sound. He narrowed his eyes and listened. Then his Elemental senses took over and, within moments, he was back in wolf form, tracking the scent of the Vampyres as they stalked through the city. The information he gathered from their scent was that they had just arrived and had not killed yet.
He hurried to catch up with them, but they had now realised he was after them. He was darting between houses when they split up; two went left and one went right. He hesitated only for a moment and followed the two that had gone left, down a narrow passage between two inter-connected houses. Their scent was strong in his nose and his blood was boiling. Snarling, saliva drooling from his canines, he eventually cornered them in an enclosed yard.
The Vampyres turned on him, hissing, exposing their fangs, and drawing their weapons. The blades glinted dully in the light of the moons, but Blaid knew they were sharp and the Generals wielded them with deadly proficiency.
He stood before them, blocking their way out, his fur bristling along his back and neck. For a moment, they stood like that, facing each other, then they attacked. Blades whistled past his ears as he ducked the initial onslaught; then it was his turn. With violent savagery, he bit into the neck of the Vampyre closest to him. He tore his entire throat out before he had the chance to scream. Another bite and the head flew off, spraying blood in all directions. He felt the air move close to his back as the sword of the other Vampyre passed close to his fur. Furiously he turned, took one leap, and severed the Vampyres head with one bite. He was Death.
Panting, he stood for a moment, the rancid taste of their blood in his mouth. Seeing Maia with the Guard had upset him. The Vampyres had paid the price for it. He would have to get rid of these bodies before they were found, but he still had one more to kill.
He left the courtyard and retraced his steps. Soon he came upon the place where they had separated. He followed the other trail. It wound between houses, over fences and finally through a small fountain; probably to diffuse the trail. He was careful now, expecting an ambush. Padding softly over the cobblestones, he moved off into a section of the city that did not have as many houses. There were shops, warehouses, and barns. The smell of wares, such as tea, fruit, vegetables, cured meat, as well as small livestock and horses was strong here. The Vampyre probably hoped to throw him off his scent. He narrowed his eyes and blocked out all other smells, concentrating on his prey. He was so close now; he could feel it.
“Princess Maia likes to see to her own horse. Did you see him? He is a magnificent animal.”
Blaid turned at the sound of the woman’s voice. She stood in front of doors of what looked like stables. She had startling red hair and was speaking to an Elf dressed in Horse Master uniform.
“Yes, he sure is,” the man answered. “How long do you think her Ladyship will be?”
Blaid did not wait for the answer. If Maia was indeed inside the stables, then the Vampyre had to die now. He could not risk her leaving the stable with the Vampyre alive. He put his nose to the ground and resumed the hunt. He was not treading softly anymore or trying not to be seen. It did not matter anymore.
Maia! he thought frantically and raced past yet another barn.
With a screech that set his nerves on edge, the Vampyre jumped off the roof and landed on his back. He let out a howl and then snarled and growled while trying to dislodge the vile being. The creature hung on; one hand holding on to the hairs on his left shoulder, its fangs sunk deep into the thick fur by his neck, but unable to penetrate to the skin, and its right hand reaching for its blade. Blaid turned wildly, rolling, slamming into the walls of the buildings, all to no avail; the Vampyre hung on. Then he heard the rasp of the blade coming out of its sheath. He felt the Vampyre raise his arm to deal the blow. Out of options, Blaid quickly transformed, effectively dislodging the Vampyre from his back. He turned and in one swift motion reached for the Vampyre’s sword and used it to slice his throat. He was Death.
Changing back into his wolf form, he traced
his steps to the stables. As he trotted around the last corner, he saw the woman and the Horse Master walking towards him, no doubt having heard the commotion. Quickly he turned, but it was too late.
“There! Did you see? I told you I heard a wolf. Do they often come into the city?”
“We get them sometimes. They raid the chicken coops.”
Blaid heard no more. He was out of sight within moments and left to finish his night’s work.
“That one is Jaggertooth,” Evan said, his sky-blue eyes sparkling with pride. “He was born ten summers ago and will start his training this year. He is one of Silverwing’s hatchlings.”
Silverwing, Maia knew, was Evandeor’s personal dragon, the one he had ridden during the war. Silverwing had received an injury when he was a hatchling, severely damaging his left wing. Evan nursed him back to health, even though most had given up on the little dragon. However, none of the flight muscles had been injured and, with love and patience, Evan made him whole again. The wound had healed and had left a silver scar that contrasted starkly with the mud-brown colour of the dragon’s hide.
The dragons of Thala Yll were Plains Dragons, or Dragono Captivaris in the old language. They were stocky and hardy creatures, built for strength and stamina, rather than speed. They were intelligent, brave, and loyal to the death. Though they were hardly anything to look at compared to the beauty of Midnight, she thought they were beautiful. There was just something about dragons that excited her and she could spend hours in their company.
The roosts were kept a few miles from the city, on a section of mountain that poked out of the edge of Grildor-Bron Forest. It was a strange rock formation; tall, spiky turrets, gullies, ledges, and holes. Evan said that once a river must have run through there to create the formation, but it was so long ago that it was not even mentioned in their histories. The dragons perched all over these formations; sleeping, preening, eating. They were not tethered and were free to come and go as they pleased, but they were fed every day as they were forbidden to hunt in the fields.
