Cold Blooded

by Jackson Lear

  “I’m not sure if an infiltrator really needs a bodyguard to keep her safe.” I glanced over at the vampire and shifted my attention to Zara. “Let’s assume he can hear us. We know he speaks Isparian. I need you to ask her.”

  Alysia furrowed her eyebrows. “Ask me what?”

  Zara glared at me once again, reading me as best she could.

  Alysia shifted into Telucian. “Ask me what?” At least, that’s what I think she said.

  Zara leaned in, whispered into Alysia’s ear. I caught a couple of sounds but nothing that I could recognize. Given the look Alysia gave me, I assume that Zara read me correctly.

  “No.”

  I stared back at her, giving her the: ‘no matter what?’ look.

  “Even then: no.”

  Which was a pity because I had never killed a king before. I had no grand illusion of his neck splitting open and showering me with golden light, or that I would witness a thousand angels guiding his soul in one direction or the other with my blade breaking through his chest. I was pretty sure that he would’ve flopped to the ground much like a beggar stabbed between the ribs. But, you know, these things appear on your list of unusual dreams to accomplish from out of no where. You didn’t know it was there until the possibility actually occurred to you, but it’s there nonetheless, much like seducing a queen would be for a swift talker, heisting the vault of a royal family for a captain, or having an entire nation shit themselves at the mere mention of your alter-ego if you were a rattler.

  Mikael approached us. “Pardon me, m’lady, but we’re about to reach Brilskeep.”

  “Thank you. What do we need to know before we land?”

  “Well, the people are fishermen, mostly. There are very few trees to be seen for miles around, just shrubs and wild grass. None of it is ideal for farming. When they’re not being fishermen they’re raiders. Sometimes they’ll strike the coastal villages along the lake, sometimes they’ll find a river to take and hit places a hundred miles inland. The king – Draegor, that is – is related to each of the warlord nobles all around us. They swear a fealty to him and offer a portion of whatever they’ve raided, and in return he doesn’t have them killed. The custom is that the king arranges all the marriages between the nobles in the land. If he becomes tired of your marriage and thinks that a better alliance between two other families is called for then he will throw one partner off the highest point of the castle and have the grieving widow or widower married to someone else by the end of the day. You’d be surprised how often that happens.”

  The look on Alysia’s face soured.

  “It’s the way things are done here,” said Mikael with his hands raised in apology. “One thing you should keep in mind at all times is that they absolutely despise Ispar up here.”

  “Even though they like us enough to raid year after year?”

  “That’s sport and their livelihood, m’lady. They don’t get much sun or heat in these parts. Maybe a few days of the year are pleasantly warm and their slaves from the south rejoice, but for the locals it looks like the southerners are as weak as they come. You lot can’t survive the cold. You complain about it all the time, you can’t stomach the ale, you’re miserable in the long winters … you do nothing but talk about how much better the south is. But they also hate the south because you lot outnumber them. Whenever the nobles get the chance to put a southerner in their place, they’re going to take it.”

  “So we’re in for a spectacle?”

  “I fear so. It’s probably going to be very public and it will probably be uniquely unpleasant. The king will be looking for any excuse to make a fool out of you and to prove that he has the power up here, not you.”

  “What will he do?”

  “Well, he can’t throw you off the top of his castle, not unless he wants to start a war with Ispar – which he might actually want to do now that he has vampires on his side – but he might throw someone off from high up in the vanguard.”

  I shifted uncomfortably.

  “Not you,” said Mikael. “Most likely: Lieutenant Loken.”

  Loken was near enough to glance over when he heard his name. He trod over, keeping one hand firmly on the ship’s rail to steady his balance. “My lady?”

  “Tell him,” said Alysia.

  Mikael smiled apologetically. “Just as a warning, Lieutenant, and I really mean no disrespect, but if I say that Lady Kasera here can lick my balls and–”

  Loken’s hand snapped out, grabbing onto Mikael’s throat and squeezing tightly. Mikael gasped and tried to slap Loken’s gloved hand away, all to no avail. “Disrespect her and you disrespect me.”

  “Example,” spluttered Mikael.

  “Release him, please,” said Alysia.

  Loken did so.

  Mikael recoiled, grasping his throat and holding his hand tightly there to protect himself. “I’m sorry m’lady, and to you Lieutenant, but that’s the sort of thing I was talking about.”

  “You will watch you tongue or you won’t have one for much longer,” cautioned Loken.

  “I understand,” said Alysia.

  “Good,” said Mikael. “The king will be trying to start a fight. He will use every insult he has to attack you all. Whoever stands up to him is going to die.”

  We glanced back at Loken.

  Mikael continued. “I like Lieutenant Loken. I really do. But he’s the one most likely to die today. If anyone in the vanguard speaks to Draegor like the Lieutenant spoke to me then Draegor will throw the Lieutenant from his castle. It’s a power move. The rest of us will have to continue in shock while he’ll be more emboldened. He’s famous for it. If you accept all of his insults then you’re weak. If you snap back at him he kills you. Simple, but effective.”

  “So how do we talk to him?” I asked.

  “I’m not entirely sure. Patience, maybe? All I’ve heard about him are horror stories. He’s never really been a people’s king.”

  “He’s a warlord with a crown,” I said.

  “Pretty much. The biggest problem is your Kasera name. You are without a doubt the most famous prisoner they have ever had up here. But that could be the biggest advantage you have. We’ve all heard rumors about Draegor, the northerners, and the vampires. They’ve heard rumors about you. Some are wildly exaggerated, some are not. Draegor doesn’t care. He will push you until everyone sees that you are – I apologize Lieutenant – a rich daughter who has never had to work for anything in her life and has thrown a hissy fit because he’s said something mean about your father.”

  Alysia drew in a deep breath. “I’m not here to antagonize anyone.”

  “You might have to. The northerners despise weakness. How you deal with this today will influence their raids for the next fifty years. If you’re weak that shows that every Isparian soldier, town, and city is weak. If you’re strong they will be a lot more careful.”

  “Or they will continue raiding us, only this time they won’t take the risk of allowing anyone to survive who can identify them.”

  Mikael bowed apologetically. “That … has been known to happen.”

  Loken asked, “Why is her name the biggest problem?”

  Mikael practically snorted in his face. “Seriously? From common knowledge, which Isparian general is most famous for quelling the Galinnean uprisings?”

  “Cryax,” Alysia and I said, at the same time.

  “Which Isparian general is most famous for securing the Galinnean borders?”

  “Cryax and Gustali,” I said.

  “No. Kasera. The people here fought against Miss Kasera’s father. They faced him on the shores, they faced him on the fields, they escaped up the mountains and they fled into the forests. They tried to re-group; Kasera was there to cut them off. They hid across impassable rivers; Kasera built bridges to get them. They secured a hill and built a wall around themselves, baiting Kasera into an attack. He dug a moat and built a wall around their stronghold and barricaded them inside. As far as I know your father did three tours he
re, all to great success – for you. For them it was three long massacres. The people of Vasslehün want your father dead as much as you want those vampires dead.”

  The rest of the vanguard had fallen silent, listening in with a mixture of quiet admiration and unsettling fear. We were in trouble, all right.

  “Thank you, Mikael,” said Alysia. “When we land I’m going to need you to keep your ear to the ground and find out how all of this has happened.”

  “Of course, m’lady.” Mikael bowed and backed away, leaving us in peace.

  Alysia turned to Loken. “Your honor is going to have to stay silent while we’re up here.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” said Loken, in a tone that sounded as though he didn’t expect to survive this ordeal in the north at all. I was familiar enough with him to know that Alysia had grown up with Loken loosely watching over her. He had ten years on her and was a gifted rider, even to my untrained eyes. Word had it that his family broke horses for the army, thus from a young age he had a control over them that was second to none. Even though he was still a young man he had wisps of gray along his temples while his face was splotched with child-like pink flourishes. It must’ve been strange for him to see Alysia first learn to ride a horse, watch her grow taller over the years and return from university as a lawyer, junior councilor, and a wife. Now his life rested in her hands instead of hers in his, on what was quite likely to be the last mission any of us would be alive for.

  I stared out across the bleak, fog-strewn lake. “If things start going worse, I’m getting you out of here.”

  Alysia eyed me carefully. “What about the rest of the vanguard?”

  “They’re well armed and well trained. They wouldn’t be here unless they could take care of themselves.”

  Alysia dropped to a whisper. “Are you purposely not going to get along with any of my father’s people?”

  “I get along well with Zara.”

  “The one exception out of hundreds you’ve met.”

  “She’s earned it.”

  “And Loken hasn’t?”

  “I’ve heard he is a decent fighter – creatures of the full moon, basques, and dire wolves. I’ve seen him be a capable leader in a stressful situation. I wouldn’t make it your mission to ensure that I get along with everyone you like. That’s not how life works. I’m sure as far as he’s concerned, I’m someone who needs to be watched as closely as that vampire.”

  Alysia glanced over. Loken shifted his attention from us towards our undead captor. Alysia kept her voice low. “Not everyone on my family’s estate distrusts you.”

  “Give it time.”

  Mikael ambled forward. “Sorry to interrupt, m’lady, but we’re nearly there.”

  I looked across the mist-clad lake. “Really?”

  “Thank you, Mikael.”

  Our guide bowed his head once more and retreated to safety.

  Alysia lifted her chin towards the vampire and called to him. “Answer me this: why would the vampires ever ally themselves to a human king?”

  He clenched his teeth. Breathed in with a full head-circle as his gaze widened, boring into Alysia. “It was either us – former members of his people who have brutalized his kingdom, his house, and even his own family – or your empire. What does it say about your kind that a human would choose us over you?”

  “Then why would any vampire need an ally, let alone a human one?”

  He didn’t answer. He simply glared at us, picking us apart and no doubt planning how to best get our pulses to reach the point where it became a drug-infused circus for him to feed upon.

  A cold front swept in, rocking our ship from side to side. The land ahead of us became shrouded in a molasses-thick fog. Slowly our vision dropped from a hundred yards to fifty to twenty. The sounds of a coastal city at work crept towards us. Sailors barked at each other to man this, that, and the other. A waft of smoke drifted our way whenever the wind eased. The sails were lifted, the oars returned to the water, and our captors climbed to the front of the ship to help guide us into Brilskeep.

  One of us was sure to die that night. As I stared back at the vampire I had to wonder: could I bury my blade into the king before the vampire reached me?

  Better yet: could I also get away with it?

  Chapter Four

  On one side of the cold, rocky landscape lay the city of Brilskeep, rising and dipping at sickening angles as peat-burning smoke mixed with the afternoon mist, blanketing the coast in almost permanent cloud-cover. Whenever the smog lifted it seemed as though the entire city was smeared in a green bile from seaweed. Jetties, piers, and boats cluttered the shore. Men and women hauled nets away, carried crates of fish and crabs, and dragged their tiny boats onto the black shore. We sailed past a row of fishermen who looked like they just wanted to die, and carried on around a corner towards the private harbor of Castle Brilskeep.

  I expected it to be more of a keep than an actual castle, and at one point it probably was. Over its life the building had been expanded. A new wall here, another tower there, resulting in what I was now staring at: slabs of cold gray walls, uniform in depression and utter bleakness. The central building rose from the top-most cliff like one of the grand temples I’d seen in the south – a hundred yards tall, two hundred long and thirty wide. Windows appeared to be more of a nuisance than an aid for whoever designed this thing as I counted only ten across the whole façade. Linking the central building stood several squat off-shoots, disjointed towers, courtyards, and walls, walls, walls.

  Only later did it occur to me that perhaps the insanely-drunken layout of the fortress wasn’t just designed to be a problem for human invaders, but to fight the vampire menace that struck every winter.

  We reached a wooden jetty. The oars eased, gliding us in. We were received by a bear of a man wearing a mountain of furs and repurposed tattered sacks. An ax taller than Alysia remained in his grip. Wonderful, another potential fight to the death with an asshole wielding an ax. Behind the bear stood the rest of our welcome committee: snarling men and women dressed like wolf cubs. Gray furs. Necklaces of sharp teeth. Axes in the hands of the men, swords in the hands of the women. No one giving us a warm welcome onto the jetty.

  “Move,” spat the vampire.

  I opened my mouth. Zara intercepted my gaze with a ball-tingling glare. The vampire squinted back at me, reaching slowly for his sword. I backed down, focusing instead on the prize ahead of us: that we could all come out of this alive and with the vampire alliance in tatters. Of course, it was likely to mean that the vampires would have free reign on attacking us as we fled, and I didn’t like our chances of surviving a fight on a capsizing ship with an icy plunge into freezing water.

  Berik, from our infantry, climbed up awkwardly and held a hand out for the next in line. Up they went, one at a time, with Loken aiding Alysia and Zara up next to him.

  The vampire’s tongue slithered across his teeth and gestured to the captured sailors. “Maybe you should stay with the traitors.”

  “If you really want me to follow you like a bad smell, so be it,” I said, before climbing up onto the jetty.

  The bear drew a deep breath in as he locked onto me. His chest swelled. He even leaned back to peer at me from behind his bushy beard. Alysia was a little shorter than average. I could comfortably rest my chin on the top of her head if I ever got that close to her. The bear could comfortably rest his chin on top of my head. Alysia strode forward, introduced herself and the key members of our party. From a distance it looked like she was a nine year old asking her burly father for a dance at a wedding.

  The bear bellowed a command. Mikael translated. “We are to surrender our weapons.” The bear bellowed again. Mikael translated once more. “We will be searched as well. If anyone is caught with a weapon on them they will be thrown from the tallest tower of the castle.”

  I peered up at my potential drop. A hundred yards, presumably crashing onto an unpleasant collection of jagged rocks below. But they would have to
get me to the roof in the first place and I was nothing if not stubborn when it came to fighting people who were trying to kill me.

  I had to remind myself that I wasn’t the only captive and that our lives remained in Alysia’s hands. I undid the straps holding my blade in place. Held it firmly in my grip.

  The bear bellowed again. “Bags and satchels as well,” said Mikael.

  Well, fuck. I unhooked my satchel, wiped a smear of paste made from fire-ants across the handle of my blade – with my gloves still on – and held my prized possessions out to one of the wolf-cubs who had just joined the list of people I would make a point of remembering for the rest of my life.

  It was less ‘frisking’ and more ‘thumping’. Our outer clothes were removed and searched. Our leather armor was prodded and tested. Then we were given the grace of re-dressing ourselves while our gear was thrown into the rough sacks and carried off by the cubs. When the bear was satisfied that he had made an enemy out of some of Syuss’ best trained killers we were escorted up the thousands of steps, straight past the highest building, and into an adjoining squat hovel with a sturdy wooden door that showcased more reinforcements built onto the outside of it than on the inside. For the first time in my life I stepped into a castle dungeon.

  ‘Grim’ would put it mildly. The moment the door closed behind us all light from the outside was snuffed out. The only chance we had to see was a fire pit of dwindling flames in the middle of the room. No windows. No source of light from any other direction, and only one door in and out; a door that quickly clanged with a wooden beam on the outside, trapping us inside.

  I had noticed a half-inch drop into the room. I presumed it was to give the door a better seal around the frame to prevent as much of a draft as possible. Annoyingly this made it difficult to sneak blades around to pry the hinges free.

  I scanned the faces in the room. No unknowns. Walked along the walls with my hand running across the stonework. No one hiding in some unseen alcove, no poorly hidden way out.

  Loken got his people to work; one to stoke the fire, two on the door, the rest to find any weaknesses in the building. Alysia made the rounds between the troops, thanking them on behalf of General Kasera. I imagine it was easier for her to remain positive knowing that she was the least expendable, despite her insistence that we were all equally in this together. I peered up at the roof. Angled, with narrow cutaways shuttered over. Murder holes, if I had to guess. Trap everyone in here and start dropping in boiling tar, loose some arrows, or just seal them shut and let us starve to death.