The Misadventures of Ka-Ron the Knight

by Donald Allen Kirch

  Calmly, the young man glanced at her garments. He noticed, quite plainly, that the woman's breasts were practically hanging out of her clothing.

  "It is a fair garment."

  "See anything you like?"

  En-Don looked down at Molly's breasts, but the emotion in his eyes did not change. His hands still absently played with the hilt of his sword.

  "Yes, I do." the young man replied.

  Molly's hearts began to race.

  "But I am not hungry at this time. Thank you, Molly."

  Reality, unfortunately, set in.

  Molly buttoned up, and returned to her harmless watching.

  ***

  As the small group from the Argo followed Count Voslow deep inside his lair, several members turned curious eyes toward the wizard. Keeth was just as startled as they were.

  "Why is this madman cooperating with us?" Dorian whispered. "Does he not know we are here to kill him?"

  "Curious, is it not?" Rohan added. The elf continued to hold an arrow in his right hand, ready to apply it to his bow, if need be.

  "I do not understand this," the wizard stated, scratching his head. "I do not understand this at all."

  Count Voslow continued to guide his guests deeper into the castle. It was quite obvious that the vampire could hear what they were saying. Whispers, thoughts, and anything of the subversive was within the senses of the undead. Voslow, for the time being, just seemed not to care.

  Mull Garden appeared to have been a beautiful home once. In the distant past the mold, cobwebs, and collapsed walls held within them the power to control nations. Dull remnants of gold-flaked paint, the finest ivory, and artworks lost to the passage of time attracted their observation.

  Voslow made it a point to stop several times, allowing them all to share in the building's former glories.

  "For those who are interested," Voslow said, pointing a long and bony finger beyond his grasp. "There is the chapel."

  The castle chapel was unlike any seen by outsiders. Like those in most ancient castles, this chapel had been built during the time of The Coughing. And, like most chapels, this one was built from the bones of those taken during those dark times. The doors of the chapel, however, were quite different.

  Carved proudly upon the huge wooden door, leading into the prayer chamber, was a stoic figure of a knight. This last caught Ka-Ron's eye, causing her to gasp in both wonder and surprise.

  Her emotion caught the eye of the vampire.

  The vampire's emotion caught the eye of the wizard.

  The figure carved upon the chapel gate was brave, riding upon a horse which reminded Ka-Ron of her beloved Echoheart. In the knight's right hand, raised triumphantly above his head, was a flaming sword. At the feet of the horse were hundreds upon hundreds of the fallen.

  Everyone who saw the image knew who it had been.

  It was Count Voslow.

  "A small vanity," Voslow said, forbidding himself the enjoyment of the honor. "It is of little importance."

  "It is a most remarkable likeness, sir," Ka-Ron stated, lowering her eyes from the vampire's hungry stare.

  "Hmmmm?" Voslow mused, glancing over his shoulder nonchalantly and allowing himself a momentary glance. "Indeed?"

  The vampire continued his walk, motioning his guests to follow.

  They walked past great halls, past important meeting rooms, and long-forgotten museums holding even more forgotten historical treasures. Mull Garden was a decaying memory of the Nown world's past. Books, paintings, furniture, statues and devices that would confuse even the most educated wizard - all was for the taking.

  The only thing in their way was Count Voslow.

  The crew of the Argo continued cautiously to follow their host, marveling at the tarnished grandeur of Mull Garden. Voslow pointed to an occasional curiosity here and there, if only to help entertain himself. It was quite obvious to all who were studying the vampire that eternity had been a high price for the Count to pay. He was utterly, completely, and absolutely bored.

  The halls got dark.

  Voslow put out his hand, stopping all.

  Ka-Ron, who had been paying more attention to what she was looking at than at where she was going, accidentally stepped onto a half-eaten and completely rotten corpse of a lava rat. The tiny creature had been discarded after fulfilling Voslow's hunger many suns ago.

  Ka-Ron retreated from the rat and backed up into Jatel's arms.

  Voslow mildly chuckled at the revulsion the bloodied corpse produced.

  "I apologize, my lady." Voslow lit a torch. "Maid's day off, you understand."

  With illumination, Voslow focused everyone's attention upon a set of huge golden doors set in front of them. The doors were several hundred sticks in height, appeared to be quite ancient and curiously enough, seemed to be the only items in the castle that appeared both clean and in prime condition.

  "To the gods!" Dorian stated, glancing up at the doors. "What are these?"

  "I have often stared at these figures, wondering the same thing." Voslow stated, raising the torch so that all could clearly see.

  On each side of the doors were several chapters' worth of ancient text. They told a substantial story, but alas, no one could read the language anymore.

  "This text is pre-Nown, is it not?" Keeth asked, his features reflecting the intellectual mystery of the moment.

  "I believe you are correct, wizard." Voslow's eyes turned to look at Ka-Ron.

  Ka-Ron noticed.

  There were two figures carved on the doors. One was a man, the other a woman. Both had their backs facing one another, and held in their hands swords. The man's was a simple sword. The woman's was in flames. Although not facing each other, they were not enemies. The woman, clearly peeking at the man from over her shoulder, held a satisfying smile. The man's gaze was skyward, as if challenging the gods for his right to claim her. In the far distance, at the center of the doors, was Mull Garden.

  "I have always wondered about this scene," Voslow explained. "I honor this door for the mystery it helps create in me. It makes me&wonder."

  Keeth studied the door. The wizard absently scratched his beard.

  "I can provide you some understanding."

  "Oh?" Voslow turned away from the door, giving the wizard his full attention.

  "The name of the woman's sword is Evandore. It is currently enshrined at the Royal Palace in Hispania."

  "And...the name of the woman?"

  Keeth searched his memory. Ultimately, all the wizard could do was shrug his shoulders in ignorance. "All I know is what I have seen, sir. The sword was rumored to have belonged, once, to a brave queen who freed many lands in her time from the forces of darkness. She was both beautiful and famous for her keen sense of justice."

  Voslow mulled the story around in his mind. The vampire shook his head in agreement, liking what he had been told. He turned back to study the doors, knowing them now in a better light.

  "I often wonder if she faced death with her eyes wide open."

  "I am sure that she did, Count."

  Voslow remained quiet for a long time.

  No one had the discomfort or bravery to question the pause.

  "Anyway&" Voslow finally said, waving a hand at the shiny doors.

  The mysterious figures soon parted, allowing the ancient doors to open.

  Beyond the doors, there lay a great banquet hall. Although decayed and rotten in some places, the room was not as badly neglected as the rest of the castle. Everyone in the group got the clear impression that this room, like the golden doors before them, held a sentimental value to the vampire.

  "I offer to you my services, as your host," Voslow said, bowing.

  Dorian was not at all shy. "Is that lamb I smell?"

  A huge wooden table several sticks in length, occupied the center of the hall. Great oil lanterns hung from the ceiling, filling the air with a fragrance of cedar and pine. Tapestries, paintings of long-forgotten battles, and stained glass windows impact
ed the senses of all.

  And, as the dwarf had surmised, a feast to fit an army awaited them.

  "Please," the vampire stated, offering the hall to his guests.

  Dorian and Rohan were not shy. Food, especially the free kind, was hard to come by. When traveling, you ate when you could.

  "Something is not right," Ka-Ron whispered to Jatel.

  Both the squire and wizard made worried eye-contact.

  Voslow sat, quietly, watching as the others ate. It took some time before all enjoyed the meal. Some, mainly Ka-Ron and Keeth, waited. They studied their friends, whose hunger was mightier than their caution. When it was proven that the food was both safe and plentiful, all dug in. As they enjoyed themselves, a sly and tired smile formed upon the face of the vampire. What he was thinking, musing, or ignoring, for that matter, was anyone's guess.

  "You are here to kill me, are you not?" Voslow finally asked, breaking his silence. His eyes peered at Keeth, expecting an answer.

  The wizard gulped down some superior vintage. The satisfying sting of the wine caused his body to warm to the pleasant after-effects.

  "Count, we have come to seek&"

  "I can fix this problem of yours," Voslow offered, his hands extended in a gesture of cooperation. "Jatel's curse can be easily released. There does not need to be any bloodshed."

  "That would be fine, Count," Ka-Ron said. "How do you propose we do that?"

  The vampire's eyes narrowed. His constant staring at Ka-Ron was starting to take its toll upon the knight. Several times, for reasons she could not bring herself to understand, she found that she was becoming curiously aroused by his attention. Voslow, although quite dead, was a handsome man. Ka-Ron had slowly become appreciative of the simple appearance of men, suffering from her curse, and like any normal woman, was now completely influenced by a gentlemanly touch. She did not wish to make this personal point clear to Jatel or her friends - they would not understand. In truth, Ka-Ron was enjoying the prospect of staying a female.

  Before Voslow could respond to the knight's question, a young woman entered the room carrying a plate of fruit, cheeses, and more wine. All were finished with their meals, but Voslow was of the class of royalty which believed collective talk still required some kind of beverage and stimulation. He was far beyond these simple pleasures, but he was not crude enough to expect his guests to be.

  The servant poured out the wine and was quite taken by Ka-Ron and her beauty. It was obvious to all that the girl was frightened. Her hands shook and she was doing all that she could to keep from crying. Her tears, however, betrayed the forced smile she projected.

  "Thank you," Ka-Ron beamed, taking the glass of wine from the servant girl.

  The servant was obviously a woman who had lost all interest in male bonding, for her attention towards Ka-Ron was more concentrated than the norm. Ka-Ron had heard of such women, and had even traveled through entire nations that had no need for the warm touch of a man.

  "Woman!" Voslow yelled, darting up from his chair.

  The servant's attention was not to the Count's liking.

  In her fear, surprised by Voslow's rare show of emotion, the servant woman accidentally split wine all over Ka-Ron's dress.

  "Insolent bitch!" the vampire raged.

  The servant woman dropped her entire tray and shrank to the floor in terror.

  "It is nothing to worry about, Count." Ka-Ron insisted.

  The vampire was beyond hearing. Thundering over to where his servant was cowering, Voslow had managed to obtain a small dagger. Even to Ka-Ron, his intentions were clear.

  There seemed to be only one penalty for mistakes under Voslow, and that was death.

  "No!" Ka-Ron ordered. A strong hand stopped the Count.

  Voslow looked at Ka-Ron with puzzled confusion. "No?"

  "It was an accident." Ka-Ron explained. "It is not the end of the world."

  "She ruined your meal," Voslow explained. The vampire's eyes turned red as he glared down at the unfortunate woman. "I treat my guests well."

  "Then, you would be doing me a service if you let her live."

  Voslow's mouth opened with a snarl. Saliva dripped down his razor-sharp teeth. The knight could sense that he wanted to attack the woman at her feet, desperately holding onto one of her ankles, knowing that Ka-Ron was her only hope at life. The Count was hungry for flesh, and desperate for blood.

  Still, something clicked. Something kept the vampire from striking. Whatever it was, the knight was thankful for it. For, if forced to defend, Ka-Ron knew, from both instinct and experience, that she had not the strength to stop him from achieving his goal.

  "I will do as you say, madam." Voslow bowed. His features held the hate and discomfort he was feeling with great honor. "You are my guest. And, in my house, to an extent, the guest rules."

  "I thank you for your courtesy, sire." Ka-Ron bowed.

  Dorian was heard giggling as he tore off a healthy hunk of undercooked lamb from a sizable leg he was eating.

  Voslow stepped closer to Ka-Ron.

  Rohan reacted.

  "Don't!" the elf warned. As fast as it would take for another to blink, the elf had reached behind him, placing an arrow into his bow, and took aim at Voslow's hearts. If the vampire were to move, he would not move far.

  "Rohan!" Keeth warned, pointing a restraining hand into the air.

  "You risk much, elf," Voslow said, his face lit by a mischievous grin.

  "So do you!" Rohan stated, closing one eye and taking his aim.

  Voslow backed away.

  Ka-Ron exhaled in shock.

  Jatel ran to his master's side, embracing her in relief.

  "Apologies, Count." Keeth bowed.

  Voslow raised his hands, backing away. He returned to his chair, keeping a side glance on Rohan, who followed him with his bow.

  The meal was defiantly over.

  It took sometime, but Rohan relaxed and put away his bow.

  Voslow found it all quite amusing. In point of fact, it was the most fun he had in over twenty seasons.

  "Count," Keeth finally said, "You were about to explain how we could obtain our goal without bloodshed."

  "Yes?" Voslow agreed, placing his hands upon his chest.

  "And how do we accomplish such an altruistic feat?"

  Voslow glared at Ka-Ron. "I wish to have an heir."

  Jatel noticed the friction between the vampire and his master.

  "Who will provide you with this heir?" Jatel asked, slowly rising from his seat.

  "Ka-Ron, that is who."

  Shocked, Ka-Ron, bowed her head and concentrated on the wine stain on her lap.

  "You will do nothing of the kind." Jatel harshly warned.

  "Perhaps," Voslow accepted.

  Keeth, silently, requested Jatel to take his seat. The expression on his wise features assured the squire that he had an ulterior motive.

  Jatel agreed under protest.

  Again, the table was attacked with an awkward silence.

  Dorian, however, continued to attack his savory leg of lamb.

  Dwarfs.

  "I was not always as you see me," Voslow tried to explain. The vampire caught something out of the corner of his eye, and paused for a few beats. There was a lava rat nearby, scratching around the foot of his chair. With lightening reflexes, the vampire picked up the rat, bit its head off, and drained the unfortunate creature of all its life force.

  "Disgusting!" Jatel stated, averting eye contact with Voslow.

  There wasn't a person at the table who did not feel like getting sick, with the sole exception of the dwarf.

  Voslow chuckled a little as he threw the dried up lava rat onto the floor.

  "I apologize." the vampire said, wiping the blood from his lips. "They sustain me."

  "I feel so sorry for you," Ka-Ron whispered, barely heard by those at the table.

  "You do, my lady?" Voslow asked, "Truly?"

  Ka-Ron shook her head in agreement.

  "Hmmmm,"
Voslow grumbled.

  "Got anymore wine?" Dorian asked, burping.

  Rohan passed a bottle to his friend, but he gave the dwarf a harsh look. Dorian, in his own defense, poured out a glass of wine and shrugged his shoulders.

  "You were saying, Count?" Keeth said, trying his best to change the subject. The wizard silently motioned the rest of his party to remain quiet. There was a desperation in his movements which seemed to go beyond common curiosity. So, in order to see where this was all playing out, everyone responded in kind.

  "I was once a man of unquestionable honor," Voslow stated. His eyes showed great sadness. "In some parts of the world, I am celebrated as both hero and liberator. I have led many armies into victory against superior enemies. By some regards, my enemies have even praised me for my actions against them!"

  "Count Voslow?" Ka-Ron asked, still not having the power to look him in the eye.

  "Yes?"

  "How did you become a&"

  "Vampire?" Voslow concluded.

  "Yes."

  Voslow's eyes glazed over, remembering the first horror: the means which had claimed his mortality&the thing that had made him a monster. He projected so much inner torment that all at the table could feel it.

  "I do not remember her name," Voslow stated, clearing his throat. He squirmed in his chair, trying to find a comfortable position in which to finish his story. "She had black hair, long and silky. I compared her color to that of a raven's."

  At the mention of her "raven-colored" hair, all at the table flashed each other a disturbed look, remembering "Raven hair" from Molly's stories. Could they be one and the same?

  "Ah, I see you have heard of her," Voslow mused. "She survived?"

  "We have heard of such a woman, Count." Keeth explained, "From a friend of ours."

  Voslow shook his head slowly, thinking. "She is of no matter to me. When alive, she was nothing but a user." The vampire paused, curious. "I thought I had killed her."

  All at the table gave the vampire a shocked look.

  "It was the only way I could&thank her." Voslow explained.

  Dorian burped after finishing his meal.

  All eyes turned to the dwarf in amusement.

  "Good meal," was all the dwarf could bring himself to say.

  Voslow smiled at the comment.