by Jackson Lear
“Do you have somewhere to hide?”
“There’s a storm house not far from here.”
“Good. Stay safe. Before you go, who lives in that house over there?”
She followed my point. “Arster.”
“Have you seen him today?”
“No.”
“What about your grandfather?”
She called out to him. He continued packing quickly.
“He’s the same size as Agnarr, isn’t he? Same height, same shape?”
“Yes.”
“What’s his dog’s name?”
“Kirik.”
“Does Kirik go wherever Arster goes?”
“I think so.”
“Have you seen or heard Agnarr today?”
“No.”
“What about anyone from the crew who brought us in yesterday?”
“No.”
“You’ve been inside all morning, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Right. I’m looking for someone who can be a guide for us for a few days. Someone who knows the surrounding land, who can hunt and forage, and someone who can sail a ship. Is there anyone you can recommend?”
She went wide-eyed, gasping as she struggled to come up with a good recommendation.
“All right, is there anyone your grandfather knows?”
She asked. He shrugged, muttering under his breath. “Everyone you see outside.”
A loud voice rang out just beyond the door. Not loud enough to startle me, more of a, ‘well it’s about fucking time,’ sort of thing. The old man glanced up nervously. Slowed. Edged towards the window. Peered out. Looked back to me.
“He says you might want to go now,” translated the girl.
“Why?”
“Elmark is back.”
I checked the window. A longboat was sailing towards us through the mist, arcing around as the captain stood with one heel on the bow, surveying the town as though he knew something was amiss. His attention landed upon the two dozen Isparian soldiers gathered together in civilian clothing in the middle of his home. I’ve never walked in on my lover spread-eagled with twenty fellas all waiting their turn, but I imagine I would take that experience poorly. This captain was no different. He bellowed a bloodied war cry. Heads popped up from the deck below. The oars hit the water. The ship turned quickly. The drums of war sounded. The longboat was about to ram its way onto the black shore.
“Back to the tavern!” shouted Loken. “Miss Kasera! Zara! Everyone!”
I spun back to Anka. “I need your help to translate.”
“No!” barked the grandfather, shielding Anka quickly as he tried to hustle her into another room. He stopped when he found my blade digging into the side of his ribs.
“Anka? I need your help to calm Elmark down. Please?”
The grandfather slapped my wrist out of the way. He was impressively strong and ready to fight me to the death. To this day I wish I could remember his name.
“Anka? Please?”
She gasped awkwardly, shuddering with terror. “Okay.”
“Thank you.”
The longboat beached itself with considerable speed. Elmark threw himself off the front of his ship and stormed forward with his ax at the ready, seething with berserker rage and bellowing at the tavern.
I shouted out his name. He slowed his assault against Alysia and the vanguard, turning towards me until our eyes locked. A dragon in human form. His pebbled face covered in pits, scars, and burns. A brick-like jaw convincing me that he could probably bite my arm in half if I gave him the chance. Hair pulled back tightly and knotted together. He wore a single layer of clothing across his chest. Arms exposed from the elbows down. He either didn’t give a fuck about the cold or gave too much of a fuck about looking as fearsome as possible.
He approached, spinning his ax quickly in his grip. Growled when he got within talking distance. No fire breath, which was a relief. “Agnarr?”
I spoke to Anka. “Tell him Agnarr invited us here to help overthrow Draegor.”
She did so.
Elmark scoffed a laugh. Kept to his native tongue.
“You are going to overthrow Draegor?” whispered Anka.
“We already have. He’s dead.”
Anka blinked back at me. Perhaps it was the first time she’d heard the news or that we were responsible.
“Tell him.”
Elmark squinted in return. “You killed Draegor?”
“He was untrustworthy. Now we have come to help Agnarr.”
We shared a momentary stand off, one that I could not possibly have hoped to win with all of his crew backing him up, but informing him of the king’s death had given my reputation a considerable boost.
“Where is Agnarr?” asked Elmark.
“He left last night on Kilmit’s ship without telling anyone.”
“Kilmit doesn’t have a ship.”
“He does now. The previous captain is dead.”
“How?”
“He died at Brilskeep when we were rescuing the crew.”
Elmark glared back at me. Spun his ax through his fingers. Looked like he want to spit right in my face. Something inside him must have clicked into place as he snorted, stepped back, and stormed off to his crew.
The grandfather rasped. “Anka?”
She was frozen stiff, breathing quickly at the near fight to the death right on her doorstep.
Elmark’s people stowed their weapons, heaved the sizable ship back into the water, and set sail eastwards towards the pier. The mood of bloodlust and violence ebbed, allowing the crowd of locals to disburse. The young men who had taunted me the day before stood nearby, sullen and dismayed that we still got to keep on breathing.
“Thank you,” I said to Anka.
“Grandfather says you should leave now.”
“I’d love to. Tell him he has my respect.”
Loken emerged from the tavern doorway, drawing in a few shallow breaths. “That could’ve gone badly.”
“Could’ve. Didn’t. How soon can we be ready?”
“To do what, exactly?”
Alysia stepped between us. Zara peered out at the water. No one said anything for some time. Instead, we all ran through our chances of success. Whether Elmark and his crew liked it or not, his ship was the one we were going to take back to Orkust.
“Let’s not all stare for too long,” I said. “If we’re going to do this then we need to take it by surprise.”
Loken looked to Alysia for confirmation.
“Agnarr’s not here,” she said. “They said he went to get help to defend Faersrock. He’ll be back soon.”
“His ship was heading in the wrong direction for him to get help,” I said.
“Right now we’re going to have to trust that he knows what he’s doing. Regardless, we came to help him and he’s not here. It’s time to leave.”
Zara said, “The chances of sweet-talking Elmark into helping us are limited.”
Alysia sighed. “If we take it by force and there’s no attack by Draegor’s cavalry then we will have ruined any alliance with Agnarr.”
“If Agnarr cared about our deal he’d still be here,” I said. “If he didn’t tell you he was leaving then he’s not someone can trust in a crisis. It’s time to go. Draegor’s dead. A lot of his nobles are dead. It has not been a total waste of time.”
Alysia drew in a deep breath. “If we stay and help the people fight Draegor’s cavalry we can win not just Agnarr’s trust but maybe the whole of the north.”
“That’s not our fight,” I said.
“And they have vampires with them,” said Zara.
“We’re trained for that,” said Alysia.
“But everyone here is wrecked,” I said. “A lot of us are injured. If we don’t leave today then your husband is going to start a war to get you back. That will cost a lot more lives than the ones we can save today. We should go.”
Loken nodded to Alysia. “We should go.”
A horn broke the morning silence. East of here. High up in the trees. And the blood thirsty shriek of a vampire rattled through the air.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Dogs barked. Horses galloped. Horns blazed all around us. Men and women scrambled, hurrying to get everything they had prepared yet left behind when Elmark arrived. Agnarr’s people ran to the trees, archers fumbling with their quivers, axmen dropping their shields and slipping in the mud.
“Get to that ship!” I shouted, pushing Alysia and Zara forward.
“We can help!” cried Alysia.
Zara latched onto Alysia’s wrist, pulling her into a run.
“We can help!”
Loken bellowed behind her. “Vanguard! Move it!”
Alysia cried out again. I drove my shoulder into her stomach, lifting her off the ground, and ran for it while praying to every god out there that my legs were going to hold up against the sprint.
“Put me down!”
I bypassed the sandy shore and hurried towards the pier two miles away. Two hundred horses galloped beside us, snorting and grunting at the charge, their speed more ferocious than I had ever seen before. Their riders loosed arrows, hurled jars of Galinnean Fire, and charged with axes and swords alike, swiping and cleaving every villager who got in their way.
After a hundred yards I dropped Alysia back to her feet. She was now one with the crowd, following Loken’s orders and running along the muddy path, past the church and burnt-out home, as we chased after our only way hope of getting out of there.
There – two hundred yards out and breaking through the fog – was Elmark’s longboat. The ship was pulling back towards the shore, oars working furiously, the sail flapping against the wild change in direction.
“Behind us!” shouted Gaynun.
Six war horses galloped forward. Zara snapped her belt into a spear. Wulf drove his hands into his pockets and threw a handful of green powder from one hand and blue powder from the other, directed straight at the horses. An amber flash and scorch of flames raced towards the riders, startling the horses and throwing them off course. Two tried to turn so sharply they fell, slamming their riders into the ground.
Zara ducked to the side, shielding Alysia as she sliced across the horse’s neck. The rider knocked her spear away with his ax. She held onto it but was thrown off balance.
Wulf cried out at the top of his lungs, throwing one rider clear off the back of his horse. Volbrig shouted at another rider, his target’s face bursting into a river of blood.
An ax flew my way. Had I not already been trying to dodge a wayward horse it would’ve got me. I picked myself off the ground and found one of the fallen riders. Dazed and injured. Stabbed him in the neck. Twisted. Grabbed his ax, threw it at someone riding a horse. Missed. Saw an arc of red lift into the air as Zara sliced through the neck of one fallen rider and drove her spear into the face of the bloodied one.
Elmark’s ship had done a complete about-face, heading back towards Faersrock and leaving us behind.
“Back the way we came!” I shouted, hoping like hell that we could reach Elmark’s landing site in time. Some kind of commotion was distracting the crew. Frantic pointing to the shore, Elmark thumping one of his underlings back down below, another receiving the threat of an ax to his face.
An otherworldly shriek broke every other fear-inducing sound of that morning. A vampire, wailing in vicious delight, a blast of noise so crippling that it brought half of the vanguard to their knees, cramming their fingers into their ears to fight the high-pitched shriek.
Elmark swung his ax into his mutinous crewmates. Another stabbed him in the back as they tried to turn the ship away from the massacre.
Several of the buildings in the middle of town burst into flames, the riders blitzing their way forward and dispatching every civilian they could find. One vampire leapt from his horse, kicked Agnarr’s barricaded door down, and disappeared inside.
Another vampire swiped at a younger woman, slashing her throat with his poisoned claws, dropped to the ground and dug his teeth into the wound, sucking ferociously as the euphoria of the hunt took him completely.
Dogs leapt at the riders, pulling them off their saddles, grabbing onto their wrists and mauling them. The dogs turned on us – unknown outsiders.
“Form a line!” shouted Loken.
Zara pulled Alysia to a stop as the troops ran forward, dug in, weapons ready. The first dog darted around. Was stabbed. The next jumped onto Aedalis, slamming him down at full force and tearing into his throat.
I stared at the black sand beneath my feet. ‘This one lies dead on a blackened shore,’ Desdola had said, which had been to my immediate dismissal. Fucking hell.
“Forward!” shouted Loken.
“There’s a boat!” pointed Zara. A rowboat. Piddly and upturned before the day’s fishing trip, but possibly the only way of getting Alysia onto Elmark’s ship before we were completely overrun.
Loken glanced my way, practically snarling with a look of, ‘Oh … fuck! Okay!’
An ax flew overhead. I threw Alysia to the ground, missing the blade by an inch.
“Wulf! Lindum! Get her and Aedalis out of here! The rest of you are going to hold this line like your lives depend on it!”
Wulf and Lindum turned the rowboat the right-way up, ran it into the water. Climbed in. I scooped Alysia up and dropped her on top of them. Zara threw her weight against the back of the boat. Pushed. I did the same. The clash of steel behind us, shouts of spells blasting a line through the incoming enemy.
The water reached my knees. Wulf and Lindum grabbed the oars.
“We can’t leave them!” shrieked Alysia. She made a move to dive back into the water.
I pushed my hand into her chest, forcing her back into the boat. “You’re getting out of here. Zara?”
Zara hoisted herself onto the edge of the boat. I threw her legs in, toppling her over and inadvertently pinning Alysia down.
“Get her back to Anglaterra.”
They started rowing. Zara righted herself. Alysia cried out after me. They faded as their fate became clearer than mine. Zara raised her fist to her chest, extended it out towards me – a message of good luck.
I turned back to the shore. Civilians ran, hurrying with their children as Draegor’s riders scorched their village. I dug into my pouch. Retrieved my three wraps of sapphire poison. Knotted one piece around my left wrist, another around my right, and the last around my neck.
Riders charged at the vanguard, breaking through and scattering them. They regrouped, were scattered again, blood spraying into the air as fighters from both sides started to drop to their knees and flop to their deaths.
One of Draegor’s riders hurled a glass jug into Agnarr’s open doorway. Another did the same to the longboat tavern. A burst of yellow light illuminated the attacker before he rode off. Two children ran out, batting their forearms from a fire that wouldn’t go out.
I staggered back towards the vanguard, searching the lake in one last desperate look. Alysia’s boat had reached Elmark’s. They were climbing up. Swords and axes drawn when they realized they had a Kasera onboard. Negotiating desperately. Alysia scrambled to the aft. Zara clamped one hand on her shoulder, ready to get her out of harm’s way. They both shot their hands out at the same time, pointing to the rider who had just leapt in a dismount. I turned just in time.
The vampire Razoz strode towards me, his shield and curved sword both red from combat, his discolored mouth bursting with breaks in his skin as blood dripped freely. A glint in his eye formed as he smiled. “Enjoy your last breath while you still can, human. You will soon be killing her as one of us.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I uttered a single word. “Arras.”
The vampire shrieked as his sword-hand splintered into a thousand shards of skin, bone, and blood. His
eyes raged with agonized vengeance from the spell which had taken me three rounds of four-unending nights of exhaustion to charge. It was the second most powerful spell I had ever cast, prepped from the moment I arrived at Lavarta’s camp. What I didn’t expect was the toll it exacted on me the moment I uttered it. My ribs and lungs thumped inwards like a giant had slammed his palms together, catching me in the middle. Every breath I had escaped in an instant, dropping me to one knee. I had fully expected to be able to charge forward and meet the wounded vampire head-on. Goes to show that I still knew fuck all about magic.
He swung his sword at me, his hand still a mess of sinew and blood. Droplets sprayed the air, their chilled touch striking my face like needles of ice.
I met his attack, our blades clanging against each other. He kicked forward, nailing me in the chest and propelling me three yards back, head over heels, and landing face down in the water. The weight of his body landed on top of me, pinning me under the wash of the tide. The waves pulled back just enough as I pushed myself up.
“Arras.”
I caught him just as he went in for another swing. His wounded hand shattered once again and his howls piercing my eardrums, leaving me with a high-pitched hum.
His left hand ripped into the side of my throat. A sickening warmth spread across my neck as two thick gashes were torn clear, my skin flapping free and stinging in the salt water of Faersrock.
I had little else left in me. I swiped to the side as hard as I could, met his shin with my elbow, swung up, sliced his thigh. The weight on my back bounced away as he launched himself up and returned to the shore. He landed with a thump, seething. The glint of steel in one hand was gone.
I climbed back to my feet. Checked my throat. I was a mess of blood and terror but it wasn’t enough to finish me outright. It would certainly slow me down, though. Beside me was his sword. I scooped it up. The vampire ditched his shield, drew a dagger, and kept it in his left hand.
“She will die and you will enjoy killing her!” he hissed.
Behind him, screams from the villagers and cries to arms flooded the coast. Crashes of steel against leather, howls of mortal alarm as horses fell at full gallop, their riders driven face-first into the ground, their steed somersaulting on top of them and crushing their riders underneath. Blasts of spells fired from the mages. Spells fired back in return by Draegor’s people. Archers loosed their arrows, civilians and soldiers alike ducked and weaved. Swords clanged. Blood sprayed. Not for the first time in my life it seemed to rain in death and violence.
