The commander stood up. “Where are you from boy?”
“Damascus.” Orhn replied. “My name is-”
“-No names.” The commander cut Orhn off. “Names are for peace. Where we are, actions are needed. Names are a formality that blood does not honor at the tip of a blade.” The commander pulled his sword from his hip, flipped it backwards into the air, and handed it to Orhn. “May you shed more than I do and none of your own.”
“Does that mean?” Orhn was confused. He didn't expect it to be that easy.
“Welcome to the militia.” The commander raised his glass in a toast to Orhn.
The whole group of men followed. There was a small celebration, inducting Orhn into their unit. Orhn drank with his new men, he became one of them. That night he was armed, fed, and rested well. The next day they were to fight.
One year passed as Orhn made a new path for himself in the militia. The months peeled away as he tempered his body with the conflict of blood. They raided cities and villages in the southern tip of Italy. Every city pillaged won Orhn more and more praise. He was quick and agile on the field. Orhn was never given the same armor as the rest of the militia. He found it too heavy to move around in. He stuck to his training as a boy, where he used two short swords to maim and kill as he walked into battle. Orhn had found something he was good at and could be happy with. He wished to return to Damascus and tell Cilia the good news once he was ready. Orhn wanted to redeem his hometown honor as well as tell everyone what he had become.
There was only one thing stopping Orhn from going home, a nagging question in the back of his mind. The memory of the vampire he had encountered a year and a half ago. The vampire had told him that in two years, Orhn would see him again. That time was fast approaching. Orhn didn't want to realize what might happen if he actually returned. The thought that once back in Damascus, the vampire would kill him, his old unit, Cilia, and burn the camp to the ground. This was a deep fear of Orhn's. He decided that if he never returned, he could save the lives of everyone, including himself. Either way, Orhn was sure of one thing, the vampire had meant to kill him at the end of the two years. What he didn't know is why the vampire was waiting. If he allowed Orhn to live as merely a temporary present of compassion from an otherwise cruel monster, or as a sick joke. Orhn had no idea. Either way, he would have to wait to find out.
During his down time at the barracks, Orhn was lauded as a hero on the battlefield. He was quick witted and decisive, qualities that let him walk through the turbulence with a sea of dead behind his wake. He was inexorable as he treaded the battlefield with a single thought pervading him. He was already a dead man and no human could take his life in a way that was worse than what he had seen the vampire do to his compatriots. He was fearless, and that translated into an iron power in combat. In the year Orhn had been fighting, he had never been scarred, not once over the campaign of more than sixty raids with the militia. He was considered an invulnerable ghost while wielding his twin blades. In the recent month alone, Orhn had managed to use his skill as a blacksmith to forge himself and others in the unit highly balanced straight twin short swords to mimic his own. With a mix of iron and copper, Orhn made a resilient bronze set of weapons that were far easier to swing in combat than their standard medium length curved blades. With this superior technology and skill, Orhn was a god among men in battle. Blood poured down his swords with precision and speed at his will. In battle, Orhn tore a path straight through to the opposing commander's feet. Every engagement involving Orhn, ended in victory. He was considered a hero by everyone around him, having saved their lived many times over.
Eight more months passed as Orhn cut paths into each place his militia sacked. He had become vapid. He wandered, aimlessly with a longing in his mind, a haunting thought. One day soon, the vampire would come for him. Thoughts of the power the vampire displayed, compared to it he was nothing. Orhn may have become strong, but he was not a beast in the flesh, he was no monster. Orhn wanted to tell the men in his company that he was nothing against the ultimate presence that lay in the hand of a myth he had seen within their own borders. His only reserving factor was that courageous men don't follow tales of fear chastened old wives tales. If he did, Orhn would be labeled a madman and have to leave, again. He didn't want that, but he didn't want to die either. With the constant knowledge that the vampire was late gnawing at his mind, Orhn became complacent, preoccupied. He was losing his edge, the recent scars to his body were a testament to that fact. He bore fresh scars and injuries. Something Orhn was not known for, a sign that he had changed inside.
At a table in Orhn's lavish tent, two of his men were drinking the wine given to him for saving a small gypsy band near a Turkish city. One was young, the other old. Both were friends of his. Orhn gazed off into space as the younger man asked Orhn a question.
“Why were you hurt so gravely in out last fight?” The young man directed his question to Orhn's still bleeding left side.
“Rahel, don't be rude to out commander.” The old man reprimanded the boy's words.
Orhn looked down at the red bandages covering the wound. “Oh that, I don't feel it anymore.” He returned to staring off into the distance. “I don't feel anything anymore.”
The two men across from Orhn turned to each other. They were unsettled by Orhn's comment. Every wound hurts, it aches, no one is different. They wondered what was going on with Orhn.
One young, almost seventeen year old Rahel asked. “If it doesn't hurt, do you ever guard against the blow?” He dared to ask as the much older compatriot of Orhn's tried to hush the boy from posing such a statement. It was embarrassing, nearly shameful to ask Orhn something that direct. “Do you ever care to anymore?”
The youth was pushing the temper of the older man at the table. It prompted a kick in the ankle.
“Adder, I'm serious.” Rahel professed.
“I know you are, that's why I want you to shut the hell up.” Adder snapped at Rahel.
Orhn thought for a moment. He couldn't find a worthwhile answer. He knew what the boy meant, but he didn't care. That was the real answer. Pain had lost its depth in the shadows of memory that held his attention. One word slipped his lips. “No.” Orhn trailed off into the distance, silent, broken.
“What he means to say is that if it doesn't hurt, does it slow you down? Isn't that right kid?” Adder was trying to cover for the kid's insolent remark and what he was alluding to. Unknowingly, Adder's comment landed closer to Orhn's heart than Rahel's.
It prompted a stronger answer from Orhn. “I'm dead inside. He killed me that night without a single strike.”
Without thinking, Rahel spoke. “Who?”
Adder lowered his gaze, thinking that Rahel would be beaten for such a stupid question if it was any other man. Talking out of turn as he did was not viewed as a good move.
Orhn replied. “His hands cut like iron through them. He bled the three of them out. Not ten feet from me, he slaughtered them. He left me alone. He left me to live all this time. He showed me what terror was, to be disabled by complete fear. The pain of knowing I was a mere annoyance before him, was humiliating. I can't forget what he did to me.” Orhn's depressed gaze was unbroken and sombering.
“Looks like the great Orhn has had a bit too much to drink. Maybe we should get out of here.” Adder stood from his chair in an attempt to diffuse the situation.
“No, it's not the wine. I haven't had any.” Orhn said as the two men at the table checked his full glass. “It's the impression he made. The feeling he embossed in the back of my mind.” Orhn leaned forward, sitting upright in his chair.
“Who Orhn? Who did this to you? What man wronged you so? What man could have wronged you as you said? Who made you feel like a coward, the great Orhn? How is that possible?” Rahel spoke suddenly.
Adder used the back of his hand to promptly shut the boy's mouth from speaking any more of the apparently sensitive issue. The impact knocked the boy down to the dirt floor of the tent.
Adder turned to Orhn. “I'm sorry, sir. We'll be leaving now.”
“The vampire gave no name.” Orhn lowered his head in sadness. The memory of being accused for the death of three men had weighed heavy on his soul. Especially knowing he had no way of actually saving them. Orhn had been blamed for merely surviving. No other man stood a chance against the vampire, no human at all.
The two soldiers were speechless. Adder helped Rahel up and out of the tent. They left without a word, letting Orhn to work out his troubles alone.
Orhn sat by himself, crying, weeping until the dawn eventually came. He had made himself into a hero based upon his own merits. Any other man would argue that this itself held the power to redeem his conscience. To Orhn this was a time to lament his faults. Reflecting on his doubts to a perfection that no one would ever know.
As the mourning passed, Orhn walked to the nearest town for a well earned drink. The place he settled upon was small and run down, though it was open. Orhn stepped in and sat down at a wooden stool. The wood was chipped and not well maintained at all. The entire building was in the same condition. Nearly falling apart under its own weight. A strong perfume of liquor came from the room. The bar wasn't crowded, there were only three other patrons to speak of. The bartender was a well built man in his mid thirties that eye-balled Orhn as he sat. The man watched for any signs of possible calamity Orhn might arouse with his well armed nature. Orhn had forgotten to remove his leather armor and swords during the walk. He was highly over dressed to be in a pleasant town bar. Two men sat in the corner right back table discussing the women in their lives. One was rather passionate about a new young lady that had come to the region. The other didn't seem as if he was as enthusiastic about the woman. Though he continued to listen to his friend regardless. Orhn didn't get much of a look at the patron to his left, sitting alone with his head down at the bar. The bartender was too quick to start up a tab with Orhn.
“What're you going to have soldier?” The bartender spoke up while polishing a glass. His muscles pulsing in his sleeveless linen shirt to the motion of each pass.
“Whatever the house usual is.” Orhn said glumly.
“Are you sure, it's their strongest drink.” The man to his left said lightly with a faint Slavic accent. “The alcohol has an effect that can make you either see things, or begin to forget them altogether.” The man's face was turned away, mostly covered by a pair of red and white fox pelts covering his shoulders. His shirt was tanned leather, his pants were stitched darker leather. A clothing set that was familiar to Orhn.
“That's good advice, but who are you to warn me. Maybe there are some things that I'd rather forget and some things I wouldn't mind imagining.” Orhn didn't care, he wanted to lose himself in the alcohol. His mind was set on personal destruction.
“Now that's not the temperament I remember.” The man said to Orhn. “But that is the same face from two and a half years ago.”
The words provoked Orhn, he looked closely at the man's face as he turned to meet Orhn's eyes. The deep scars, lengthy stature, the stunted nose, and finally the purple eyes gave it away.
“You're the-” Orhn rouse from his stool in shock and utter fear.
“Yugo Sokolov, pleased to meet you again, Orhn Damascus.” Yugo raised his glass as he smiled at Orhn.
“What are you doing here?” Orhn said hastily.
“I'm here to take away your pitiful life.” The tone of Yugo's voice echoed through the room.
The two men at the table heard it clearly, as well as the bartender that stopped polishing the glass in his hands.
“You've done so little these last years, Orhn. Your death only seems natural.” Yugo finished his drink.
Orhn slowly eased backwards, saying nothing.
“Now you know that won't do any good. I've already made my decision.” Yugo stood, he appeared to be more worn out than he was when they first met. Fresh blood lay on Yugo's shoes with small splatters on one of the fox pelts.
The bartender said carefully. “We don't want any trouble here, just settle this somewhere else. Please.”
Yugo did not reply.
The two men at the corner table dashed for the door. They were unsuccessful. Yugo was at the door the moment they arrived. He touched their shoulders with a sigh to his breath. Yugo walked away from them as they stood motionless. Yugo had a pleased expression as he appeared back at the bar and sat down. The two standing patrons took but a few steps more towards the archway, then held their throats in agony. They attempted to cough while no sound came forth. They were suddenly choking, and quickly fell to the ground. They passed out, unable to breathe. They were dead soon after. On the floor, water slowly poured from their lips.
“What the hell are you doing!? Those were my customers! Get the hell out, now!” The bartender yelled at Yugo. Sweat dripping from his forehead.
Yugo's left hand was long enough to reach the bartender's chest from the seated stool. The second Yugo's index finger touched him, the bartender clutched his chest, hard. Yugo had done something unknown. He wasn't drinking their blood, nothing like a mythical vampire would do. He was doing something else, something powerful. The large man collapsed on the floor in pain. Yugo was killing them, there was no doubt to that, but he was not commencing it in the same way he did two years ago. Yugo did not take a single drop from their necks, or any other part of their bodies. This made Orhn wonder why Yugo was really there. Orhn thought hard, nothing was coming to him other than intense fear. What did come to Orhn's mind was the fact that it was mid day when he entered the bar. The sun was shining high in the sky and it was no time for a vampire to be out and about. Everything Orhn had known about vampires told him that daytime was their only real enemy. Seeing Yugo at the bar challenged everything he knew. It rocked him to the core.
As the three men in the bar lay dead, Yugo spoke again to Orhn. “I came here for exactly what I mentioned, your death. To celebrate it and mark it with my own hand.”
Yugo slowly stood up and walked to Orhn.
Orhn was paralyzed by the gripping fear he experienced that night two years ago. He was reliving it.
Yugo placed his left hand on Orhn's cheek. “You've gone and cut yourself up since we last met.” Yugo looked at all the small scars covering Orhn's body. Not one was on his face, but the ones that showed on his flesh more than made up for the lack. “That's too bad, you looked so young and inexperienced back then. It suited you well. Now you appear to be battle worn and tough against the sword.” Yugo lowered his hand. “You are afraid, are you not?”
“Yes.” Orhn said, startled that Yugo would bring up the subject when he already knew the answer.
“Still as honest in the moment as you were that night. I liked that about you. In fact it is the only reason I am here today.” Yugo smiled fiendishly.
“You've come to kill me for witnessing what you did that night? Then why wait two and a half years? Why not kill me then?” Orhn was becoming defensive, shedding off a layer of terror to clothe himself in the skin of the attacker in this conversation. “Why give me time? Why make me think about what you were?” Orhn was getting angry. “Why let me return as a coward? Why did you wait!? Why the hell did you ruin my life, vampire!?”
“Why did you stand still that night, Orhn? Why bark at me now and not then? Why risk this behavior after you've seen what I can do to you?” Yugo was making too much calm, cold, calculating sense for Orhn to be mad at.
Orhn lowered his voice. “I was in awe of something I had never known to exist. You are a myth, a story told to children to keep them in their beds at night. I was afraid. I've been thinking about why you might come back for me. I thought you would kill me silently while I slept when the two years were up. That night came and went. I've been waiting for you to do it. During the day, I showed no fear in combat whether you ended my life regardless. I thought that if you were going to kill me, why should I fear a man with a blade? If a monster had chosen my name already, what would I truly ha
ve to scare me? Now that you're here.” Orhn's eyes trailed for a moment. “You're late.” Orhn said under his breath.
“What was that?” Yugo knew damn well what Orhn said. He wanted to hear him say it with confidence.
“You're fucking late! You told me two years! I've been waiting to die since that night! How could you do such a thing to me!?” Orhn screamed out. Yugo, nor the dead men in the bar wished to settle him down.
Yugo leaned in towards Orhn. He placed his lips to Orhn's left ear. “I'm a vampire. I do what I want, when I want. Time is nothing to me, especially me.” Yugo relaxed, backing away from Orhn to let him breathe.
“I've been fixating on you. Dreaming of what excuse you would give me when you finally came. I hate you vampire! You've ruined my life! You've taken from me the home I was to be a hero in, and why? For what amusement do you get off playing with my world?”
“I have a name, Orhn. Call me Yugo.” Yugo stated clearly.
“Fuck you! What do you want to do with me? What use am I as a man to you?” Orhn shouted at Yugo.
“You pose an interesting thought. Honestly, as a man, you are no use to me.” Yugo said to Orhn cryptically.
“What?” Orhn didn't understand.
“I did what I had to test you, Orhn. To see if you were able to live beyond the humiliation, the exile. I had to know you were able to walk under your own strength. In that regard, you have been proven.” Yugo suddenly disappeared, he was behind Orhn now. With one of Orhn's short swords in his left hand. “I've been watching you carefully, Orhn. Cilia was a beauty, I was sad to see you leave her. At least she will bestow the land with gorgeous children.”
Orhn tried to turn around in time, but Yugo was already looming over one of the two dead men near the door. With Orhn's sword in hand, Yugo stabbed the man in the neck, holding a cup from the bar underneath the wound. The blood poured down into the glass with ease and control. Yugo had obviously done this before. The precision he commanded with each movement was absolute. Yugo took up the glass as a salute to Orhn. He chucked it back, finishing the blood.
Demon Vampire (The Redgold Series) Page 33
