The Vampire Queen Saga: Books 1-3: (The Vampire Queen Saga Boxset)

by William Stacey

  Without a word of protest, Kora spun away and began screaming orders at the watching crew. In moments, they rushed to the beached ship and began to shove it back into the waters. Owen, his heart pounding, ran to help them, all the while keeping an eye on the horizon for Thunder Killer’s sail. Because all the supplies were still sitting on the beach, Fen Wolf easily slid back into the water, taking only moments to reverse what had taken almost an hour earlier. This time, though, the ship heaved in the surf. “She’s too light!” Kora yelled to Fioni. “We need more ballast. How long do we have?”

  “Not long enough,” Fioni yelled back, stopping to watch the far shore of the island. “Leave everything but the weapons and the water.”

  “Wodor’s balls!” swore Kora, but she began yelling orders to the crew, who began haphazardly throwing shields and weapons onto the longship.

  Owen had just thrown Vory’s ring-mail coat over the gunwale—leaving everything else in the sea chest behind—when Fioni grabbed Kora’s arm, turning her to face her. Both women were waist-high in the freezing waters. “The strakes?”

  Kora shook her head. “We replaced the shattered strake and recaulked three others, but...” She paused, her gaze darting toward the dark clouds and turbulent waves. “I thought we’d have until after the storm.”

  Owen approached the two women, the water pushing him off-balance. “What about fighting? It’s just Thunder Killer.” He glanced up at the dark clouds. “Despite the storm, it’s not nightfall yet. We won’t have to face Serina. We’ll have a fair chance.”

  Fioni shook her head. “We don’t know how close behind Iron Beard is. If we become tied down fighting Thunder Killer and Galas closes on us…”

  “He has a point,” said Kora. “Without more ballast, the waves will hammer the hull.”

  “Fen Wolf is a tough bitch,” said Fioni. “You’ve told me that enough times. She’ll hold.”

  “Here comes Thunder Killer!” yelled Owen, pointing to the far shore of the atoll where the other longship had now come into view, its oars in the water as it pulled through the surf, heading toward them. Even from here, Owen saw the ranks of armed warriors at its prow.

  “Everyone aboard now!” screamed Fioni. “We’re out of time.”

  The crew pushed through the waters and began to climb aboard the longship. Owen gripped Gali around the waist and easily lifted her up and onto the ship to Erik. He helped Lady Danika up next before looking back at the shoreline, the rocky beach littered with stacks of supplies, barrels of water, and tentage. A campfire burned, its flames gusting with the wind.

  “Time to go, Northman,” said Erik as he leaned over the hull, his open hand held out.

  Owen jumped up and caught Erik’s hand. Erik hauled him over the side of the ship. Fioni climbed aboard last, glaring at the approaching longship. She ran to the tiller, taking it from Herla. In moments, Kora had the oars in the water, and Fen Wolf began to pull away from the atoll. But now, Thunder Killer had closed much of the distance and was coming on fast. Arrows whistled overhead to splash into the rough waves or shudder into the ship. Picking up one of the round shields, Owen slipped his arm through the rungs then drew his longsword, which still trailed spiderwebs in the strong wind. Fioni turned Fen Wolf out to sea, but Thunder Killer was close behind, less than a hundred feet away. Owen used his shield to protect Fioni at the tiller, watching the hate-filled faces of the enemy warriors as Thunder Killer rowed closer. “Fioni!” he yelled over the wind. “They’re closing fast. We’re not going to—”

  “I know!” she replied, her eyes tight. She raised her voice so that Kora could hear her. “Prepare to repel boarders!”

  Ekkie barked furiously.

  From amidships, Kora turned and, white-faced, stared back at her. Then she hurried down the line of benches, pulling every second man or woman away and sending them to the stern. The warriors scrambled to arm themselves before taking up ranks and forming an impromptu shield wall. Owen remained with Fioni, covering her with his shield while she operated the tiller. Kora and five other crew members armed with the last of the Kur’teshi crossbows stepped out before the shield wall, taking aim at the approaching longship. Some of the enemy threw lit torches through the air, but in the tossing waves, all of them fell into the water. Just behind the mast, Owen saw Lady Danika and Gali huddled together behind a shield, which was as safe as they were likely to get this day.

  “Ready!” Kora screamed. The ship rose and fell in the stormy waves. Thunder Killer was now only a ship’s length away. “Loose!” Kora yelled as she squeezed the firing lever. The arms of the Kur’teshi crossbows snapped forward, sending a half dozen bolts whipping past Owen and Fioni and into the warriors massed at Thunder Killer’s prow. From this close, the powerful bolts shattered both shields and the men holding them, in some cases killing the men standing behind those in front as well. This close, Owen now saw that many of those men wore the colorful bright padded-cloth-armor gambesons and animal facemasks of Hishtari soldiers. Why use Hishtari soldiers on a Fenyir longship?

  Screams of pain and fear cut across the waves.

  “Again!” Kora yelled. “Again!”

  Having already tasted the devastating impact of the heavy crossbows, the enemy crew fought to move back, away from the carnage, but in the press of bodies, there was nowhere to go. A second volley of crossbow bolts smashed into them, sending them into a panic. Men fell and were trampled by their fellows. Some even fell overboard—or jumped. They’ll drown in those gambesons, Owen knew, as he almost had.

  Fen Wolf’s crew cheered, but Thunder Killer was almost on them. With no more time to reload, Kora and the other crossbow-armed crew members stepped back behind the shield wall. An arrow hammered into Owen’s shield, and he cut it loose with his sword. “Fioni, leave it!” he yelled.

  Her desperate face darted from his to the ship about to ram them, and then she slipped away from the tiller. After she took a shield handed to her, she and Owen joined the shield wall, locking their shields together.

  “Brace for impact!” Fioni yelled.

  Thunder Killer’s prow crashed into Fen Wolf’s stern, just forward and port of the steering platform. Several feet of the wooden gunwale caved in, tearing loose boards and sending shards of wood flying. Owen fell back against the others under the jarring impact, but the press of bodies kept him upright. Grappling hooks flew through the air, latching onto Fen Wolf’s hull as the enemy pulled the two ships together—a chilling reminder of the disastrous battle against Iron Beard.

  As if waiting for this moment, the storm’s full fury let loose, darkening the sky and pelting them with stinging rain. The enemy rushed forward, jumping from Thunder Killer onto Fen Wolf. Thunder boomed. As the first of the enemy came at them, Owen and the others met them in a single cohesive wall. Owen, screaming “Wolfrey!” hammered his shield into the jaguar-masked face of a Hishtari warrior, hearing bone crunch and sending the man flying back through the air. The enemy, coming at them in a disorganized rush, fell apart against the shield wall.

  “Now!” screamed Fioni. “Send ‘em into the sea!”

  As one, the shield wall shoved forward. Owen put his shoulder behind his shield and sent another man—a Greywynne islander—skidding back to slip and fall upon the rain-slick deck. They moved forward, stepping over fallen enemy soldiers, and Owen stomped down on one before shoving another man over the broken hull to slip between the two hulls and disappear into the water. Ekkie buried her teeth in a man’s groin, whipping her head back and forth as he screamed. Owen couldn’t tell who broke first, the Hishtari soldiers or the Greywynne Islanders, but in moments, the enemy warriors turned and fled, desperate to return to the safety of Thunder Killer.

  Few made it.

  A cheer broke out among Fen Wolf’s crew. Exhilaration coursed through Owen, and he shook his sword—bloody now, although he couldn’t remember using it—at the frightened faces of the enemy crew, jostling to find cover behind Thunder Killer’s hull.

  Fioni cu
t a grappling hook from Fen Wolf’s gunwale. “Cut us free. Hurry!”

  As the crew severed the other grappling hooks, Fen Wolf, with half its crew still rowing, began to pull away from Thunder Killer. After the beating they had just endured, the enemy fighters were unable or unwilling to come against Fen Wolf’s crew again. Owen whooped in joy, his heartbeat racing. He felt like hugging someone.

  That joy vanished when the ranks of the islanders slipped away, revealing the ring-mail-clad warrior with the short dark hair and thick eyebrows. Owen froze, his hands falling to his side, his mouth open. Dilan—it’s Dilan!

  But Dilan died…

  When Dilan opened his mouth to reveal two long fangs, the hair lifted on Owen’s neck and arms, and a chill washed over him, freezing him. He understood then: Serina hadn’t killed Dilan; she had turned him into a blood fiend.

  Oh, Dilan…

  His one-time friend exploded into action. Moving impossibly fast—faster even than Modwyn had been—Dilan leaped across the widening expanse between the two ships and landed with a jarring thud on Fen Wolf’s deck, smashing into the shield-bearing warriors and scattering them. Owen watched in stunned disbelief as Dilan began lashing out at the others, moving so fast his body blurred. With a single sweep of his hand, he ripped away most of a woman’s face, before tearing out another man’s throat, sending bright arterial blood spurting. Another man, he disemboweled with his clawlike hands; the man’s intestines spilled out, falling onto the deck. The crew fell back in horror, leaving only Owen before Dilan.

  The two men faced one another, Owen’s thoughts a chaotic whirlwind of disbelief.

  Dilan had saved his life more than once. He had even leaped onto Serina’s back, slowing her down long enough for Owen and Lady Danika to escape the alehouse. They had been friends—best friends. Owen shook his head, his shield and sword still hanging at his sides. “Dilan, wait—”

  Dilan bared his fangs, and Owen knew with absolute certainty his friend was about to kill him. But then, Dilan spun about, a crossbow bolt punching right through the ring-mail armor over his chest—but just a fraction too high to have hit the heart. Owen saw Kora furiously trying to respan her crossbow. Dilan hissed at her, turning toward her with hatred in his bloodred eyes—and Owen finally moved, slamming his shield into Dilan’s back, smashing him against the gunwale. Dilan spun, beating his fists against the shield and smashing it to splinters, before gripping Owen and lifting him high above his head, as if he were a child. Owen flew, colliding with Kora and knocking her down. A bright flash of light obscured his vision—he must have hit his head again. He tried to rise but couldn’t. Then, through his blurry vision, he saw Lady Danika’s face before his. He realized a moment later that she was now shielding him with her own body as Dilan reached out for her…

  Dilan’s face contorted in pain, and he spun away, grasping at his hand.

  Owen saw the glint of light coming from Sight-Bringer’s broken blade in Lady Danika’s hand. She cut him.

  Dilan stumbled back against the gunwale, holding his right hand against his chest. Tendrils of black smoke drifted from his palm. Another crossbow bolt smashed into his stomach, pinning him to the gunwale. Once again, Dilan bared his fangs and hissed in rage at Fioni, who had picked up the crossbow Kora had dropped and was now respanning it. Dilan’s red eyes swept the others also now advancing on him. He screamed in inhuman rage as he pulled himself free of the bolt, ripping his body away from the bloody gunwale. Another crew member rushed forward with a spear, but before the man could strike, Dilan leaped onto him, wrapping his legs over the man’s shoulders and bearing him down to the deck. As they fell, Dilan squeezed the man’s head with his thighs, crushing it like a pumpkin. The crew fell back in horror once more. But as Dilan rose, another crossbow whipped past him to strike the deck. Dilan lifted the nearly headless corpse and held it before him as a shield.

  “Get around him!” yelled Fioni. “You have to hit the heart.”

  “Take it,” Lady Danika said, thrusting Sight-Bringer into Owen’s hands. “Finish him!”

  Magical energy coursed through Owen, clearing his vision and giving him the energy to move. Owen, holding the broken sword in both hands, advanced on Dilan. “Dilan, stop!” Owen cried out.

  “Get out of the way, Owen,” Fioni yelled, her crossbow in her shoulder, Owen between her and Dilan.

  Before Owen could move, Dilan threw the corpse at him, knocking him back into Fioni. The two of them fell entangled as Dilan jumped up onto the gunwale and then ran lithely along its length, like a cat. At the last moment, Dilan jumped once again across the waves, landing on Thunder Killer’s deck. A moment later, Dilan was out of sight, protected by the enemy warriors.

  “Row!” Fioni yelled, jumping to her feet and grabbing the closest crew member, thrusting her onto a sea bench. “This is the only chance we’re going to get.”

  Fen Wolf pulled away from Thunder Killer. The other ship began to pursue Fen Wolf, but it was clear its crew was having difficulties; the ship moved sluggishly through the water. “Iron Beard to our stern!” someone screamed, their voice breaking in panic.

  In the heavy deluge of rain, the massive drake-ship was a vast dark shadow, just now coming around the far shore of the atoll. “He’s too late to the fight!” Fioni screamed into the pelting rain. “Galas will never catch us now. Row!”

  The waves grew much rougher, throwing the longship up before smashing it back down again with a teeth-jarring impact. “Half-sail now!” screamed Fioni, once again at the tiller. The crew shouted her orders forward, repeating them, as others struggled to lower the sail. Behind them, Thunder Killer was just a dark shape in the rain, and Iron Beard was lost from sight.

  Owen fell down next to Lady Danika, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and images as he handed Sight-Bringer back to her. Dilan was a blood fiend. Although he had been new to the garrison, Dilan was by far the best man-at-arms in service to the Dain family, a former member of the kingdom’s elite Rams. Now, he was an obscenity.

  This couldn’t be.

  “Owen, are you all right?” Lady Danika screamed at him, water running off her face.

  Owen looked past her, at the dark roiling clouds around them. Lightning forked down on the port side less than a hundred feet away, leaving bright spots in his vision and an acrid stench in his nostrils. Moments later, thunder boomed around them. Old Grim’s laughter, he thought miserably. When he could see again, the waves now towered above the deck on either side. Fen Wolf’s prow rose and fell, smashing back into the waves.

  “What do we do?” Gali screamed, clutching at Lady Danika, who shook her head, her eyes darting to Owen. Owen stared at the young Hishtari woman, as if he didn’t understand the question.

  “Owen!” yelled Lady Danika, gripping him by the chin and turning his face toward hers. “What should we do?”

  “Pray,” he answered.

  Fen Wolf sailed into the heart of the storm.

  Part 3

  Sentinels

  Chapter 26

  Owen

  The rain continued to hammer down in freezing sheets, interspersed with the occasional lightning bolt that boiled the seas around them and lit up the dark, angry clouds overhead. Owen clung to the mast with one arm while gripping Lady Danika with the other. The noblewoman in turn held onto the terrified Gali. The crew secured themselves to whatever they could, only moving about when necessary—and even then, only from one handhold to another, lest they be washed overboard. Some of the waves were so high they towered over Fen Wolf’s mast, threatening to capsize the longship. Mist and foam sprayed their faces, and water constantly poured over the hull, pooling around their feet, drenching them in freezing water, stealing their warmth and strength. Lady Danika screamed something at him, but her words were lost in the tempest.

  All this time, Fioni remained at the tiller, fighting to keep the ship facing the worst of the oncoming waves. Each time, the ship would claw its way up the oncoming wave until it reached the
gray-bearded crest, only to hang for a moment before tipping forward and beginning the stomach-churning descent to smash into the waters below. Each time they struck, Owen was certain the impact would rip apart the damaged hull, sending them all to a watery death. But each time, Fen Wolf’s prow would rock upward once again, and he’d breathe a heavy sigh of relief. But always, the worry nagged him. How much longer can the hull withstand this pounding?

  Nearby, her arm wrapped around a guide rope, Kora threw her head back and howled like a wolf. He stared at her in disbelief. Kora, seawater dripping from her chin, flashed a smile at him. “The wave beats the high benches!” she screamed above the wind. “The keel cleaves the sea. Will the ugly sea break the beautiful ship?”

  Above them, the sail, still only half-raised, crackled as the wind tore at it. The mast creaked ominously, waving under the stress. “I don’t understand!” he yelled back.

  Kora, her eyes dancing, reached out and gripped Owen’s tunic, pulling his ear closer to her lips. “The spinster-crones have already spun out the threads of your life, Owen Northman—whether you believe in our gods or not. You can’t escape your fate, so you might as well be adventurous.”

  A sweet, pungent zing filled his nostrils, and a moment later, a massive bolt of white lightning struck the sea less than a half-league away, exploding around them.

  Kora howled once again.

  #

  Time lost all meaning.

  They fought on through the storm for what felt like hours as night fell. At one point, the sea became so rough, Owen tied a length of rope around himself, Lady Danika, and Gali, and all three huddled together for warmth, shivering miserably. Yet, despite the cold, the constant soaking, the waves, and the ever-present threat of breaking apart, he recognized a sense of wild abandon coursing through him, invigorating him. He had never experienced anything like this in the north. By comparison, free-climbing snow-covered mountains seemed dull.