The Vorbing

by Stewart Stafford

  Vrillium shot into the air with amazing speed. “Behold my power!” Vrillium said, as he levitated high above the cowering crowd who blessed themselves unconsciously and uncontrollably. They shrieked in terror and fell to their knees to praise him.

  Vlad stepped in front of the crowd. “This man is no God,” Vlad said, “behold his evil!”

  Vlad took out Pierre's small bottle of holy water and threw some of it to Vrillium's right and left. The blank spaces beside Vrillium’s body turned red and bled with audible demonic roars. Two young vampires became visible. The crowd gasped and screamed at the sight of vampires holding their chief elder Vrillium in mid-air.

  “Our father, who art in Heaven,” Vlad began, “hallowed be thy name...”

  The young vampires became frightened and fled, dropping Vrillium on his head. Vrillium’s neck broke with a loud, appropriate crack.

  Pierre knelt down to examine Vrillium. He then turned to address the crowd. “Your elder is dead,” Pierre said. “You have seen he was in league with Deadulus.”

  Vlad took Pierre's sword and hacked away at Vrillium's lifeless body before sinking to his knees and weeping. “She's gone, Pierre,” Vlad said. “My mother is gone forever. He stole her life away from her.”

  Pierre pointed at Vlad and looked into the eyes of the people of Nocturne. “Look what you have done to Vlad!” Pierre said. “You drove him out of his home, forced him to go to all the way to Mortis, and participated in his mother’s murder while he was gone. I didn’t know him at first, but he has more than earned my respect. He beat me and many other skilled bowmen to win the king’s archery tournament. Yes, Vlad Ingisbohr is the champion archer of Mortis. You should welcome his triumphant return as Nocturne’s favourite son. Instead, you put him through this heart-breaking agony. Vlad is all that is good in this cursed place. I am shocked that none of you can see that. If I could relieve him of his unimaginable pain and take it into my heart and soul right now, I would do it. I am proud to call him my friend and brother. You have all done many shameful things to Vlad and his family. I will see to it that you make amends. Every able-bodied man in Nocturne is to meet here in five minutes for battle drill. Don’t have me come looking for you. Five minutes!”

  The grumbling crowd dispersed. Although they were shepherds and farmers, the men of Nocturne were first and foremost expert hunters. It was the first thing inculcated into them as children. Their parents believed that war or a natural or supernatural disaster (like the vampires) could strike at any moment. The ability to hunt was vital to survival. They were lethal with a bow and arrow, spears, or knives. The Nocturnians lacked the symbolic figurehead of someone like Vlad to fuse them into a fighting unit. Pierre’s tactical shrewdness, technical brilliance as a warrior, vast experience, and regal connections were huge advantages (All of which had counted for naught against Vlad’s instinctive genius in the king’s archery tournament.). Together, they made a formidable team.

  A primordial screech from behind them made all their heads snap to the left.

  Two Nocturnians emerged from the shadows gripping a squirming, screaming young vampire. One had tied a rope around its neck and held onto it while the other held both its arms behind its back and held it up while pushing it forwards.

  “A scout,” one of the men said. “We caught him listening back there in the trees.”

  Pierre jumped in front of the crowd. “Avert your eyes, or it will bewitch you!” he bellowed, looking away from the creature.

  Vlad stepped forward and put his hand on Pierre’s shoulder. “If I don’t look in its eyes,” Vlad said, “no trust can be built up between us.”

  “We must never trust these base creatures!” Pierre said.

  The crowd roared their agreement.

  “Brother, that is an angel of the Lord!” Vlad said, pointing at the vampire.

  The crowd gasped in horror and then murmured amongst themselves.

  “He’s a blasphemer like his mother!” a woman in the crowd said.

  The crowd murmured agreement.

  “That is an angel of the Lord with God’s curse upon it!” Pierre said.

  The man with the rope around the vampire’s neck spoke. “Have you both gone mad?” he said. “An angel of the Lord? It’s a vampire, evil incarnate; half my family is dead because of them!”

  Vlad sensed the agitation of the crowd. It was a disturbing reminder of when they attacked him during his banishment from Nocturne. He had to do something fast. “Brothers!” Vlad said. “There’s something I must tell you that you may find shocking, but it’s the truth. Deadulus IS Lucifer!”

  The crowd fell silent. Vlad feared they were about to charge at him.

  “No!” one man in the crowd said. “It’s not true!”

  Pierre stepped forward and stood with Vlad to support him. “Vlad speaks the truth,” Pierre said. “Deadulus is Lucifer, and all his vampires are the angels that fell from Heaven with him when they failed to overthrow God.”

  There were worried murmurs from the crowd. Then, more cries of disbelief.

  “Ask the creature, Vlad,” Pierre said. “Ask it and show them.”

  Vlad knelt before the screaming vampire. “We mean you no harm,” Vlad said, “please be calm.”

  There were mutterings of disbelief from the crowd.

  “Look at me,” Vlad said, looking into the young vampire’s eyes.

  The vampire relaxed slightly and stared back. Its darting eyes looked from Vlad’s eyes to his neck and back again. The thing was hungry for blood. Vlad also saw the fear of a vampire up close for the first time.

  “Is your master Deadulus really Lucifer?” Vlad asked. “And did you fall from Heaven with him?”

  The vampire closed its lips tight.

  “So help me, I will use holy water and the cross of Christ to extract a confession if I have to!” Vlad said turning the verbal thumbscrews.

  “The sun has almost risen. You may not have to, Vlad,” Pierre said.

  “My master is Lucifer,” the vampire said, “and we are God’s fallen angels.”

  The vampire’s head dropped with shame at his part in Lucifer’s plot and for betraying his NightLord’s secret to humans. The crowd did not know how to react.

  “Now, do you believe me?” Vlad said, turning to the crowd. “You have heard it from the lips of a vampire! I wasn’t sure myself until just this moment, but now we have conclusive proof.”

  “Deadulus is Lucifer?” one man said. “How can we fight the Devil himself? We have no chance!”

  Again, the crowd got agitated. Pierre raised his hand. They grew silent again. “Because this time you have me,” Pierre said. “I’ve fought vampires and I know them. I can call on the king’s resources for help. You are not alone this time.”

  “You will all die tomorrow!” the young vampire said with real menace in his eyes.

  Scared, the crowd backed away from the vampire.

  “Let it go!” Vlad said.

  “Set it free so it can attack us again? Never!” said the man holding the rope around the vampire’s neck.

  “Do it now!” Vlad said.

  They released the vampire. It went for Vlad’s throat. Pierre pulled a crucifix from his belt and held it before him. The protection worked, and the vampire changed course and took to the air. It looked back towards Vlad, Pierre, and the crowd.

  “Enjoy your last night of life, mortals!” it sneered. “Tomorrow, we feast on the blood of you and your children!”

  It cackled as it disappeared into the darkness. Everyone in Nocturne Village Square stood in silence, in shock at what they had just seen.

  “Nothing has changed,” Pierre said, regaining control. “Prepare for battle drill.”

  The crowd took their temporary break. De la Costa looked at Vlad. “It won’t be easy, you know,” the knight said.

  “I know it won’t be easy,” the young man replied. “But, I also know that we can do it.”

  Pierre chuckled at the arrogance of youth.
“That’s the spirit!” the nobleman said.

  Grief took hold of Vlad again. Then, he spotted Ula, and his heart soared.

  She ran across the square to where Vlad stood, put her arms around him, and kissed him all over. “Oh my life, I thought you were dead,” she said.

  “I thought so, too, several times,” Vlad said.

  “I’m so sorry about your mother, Vlad,” Ula said.

  “She was the best of all of us,” Vlad said.

  “Yes, she was, and more,” Ula said. “I only survived because she told me to wait outside when she confronted Gladwish. If I hadn’t gone into hiding, they’d have killed me, too.”

  Vlad kissed Ula deeply. Pierre coughed and interrupted the tender moment.

  “I went to Mortis,” Vlad said, “and found this hale and hearty nobleman!”

  Ula looked at Pierre and blushed. “Oh, my,” she said. “What an attractive gentleman!”

  “So this is the beautiful woman you’ve been telling me about, Vlad,” Pierre began.

  He took Ula’s hand and kissed it. Vlad winced at the knight’s corny chivalry. “My name is Sir Pierre de la Costa,” the knight said, “and it’s a great pleasure to meet you, my child.”

  His charm was not lost on Ula. She blushed again and tried to stammer a reply. A concerned look crossed Vlad’s face. “Don’t let him fool you, Ula,” Vlad said. “Underneath that suave, rugged exterior beats the heart of a knave.”

  “That’s enough out of you, my lad!” said Pierre. “Believe me, Ula, if it weren’t for me, that boy wouldn’t be alive today.”

  Vlad gave a mocking laugh. “I’ve saved your life as often as you’ve saved mine, friend.”

  “Touché,” the knight parried.

  Ula defused the escalating macho battle with a tactical question. “So, tell me, where are you from?” she asked.

  “Vlad and I have come from the north, but I was born in the west,” Pierre said.

  He told Ula many tall tales. Ula was lapping up all the stories. Pierre was getting into his stride when Vlad coughed to alert the knight that his ragtag army had assembled. He made his apologies to Ula and strode over to begin the drill. Ula squealed with flirtatious excitement.

  “What a man!” Ula said. “Where did you find him?”

  “I’m considering sending him back there to stop him stealing you away from me,” Vlad said.

  Ula laughed but did not deny her attraction for Pierre.

  “It is a tale I have neither the time nor the energy to tell,” Vlad said. “Why don’t you wait for me back at my mother’s-” Vlad winced at the words he heard himself say. In the past, the word mother was a source of security and affection to him. It would only be a source of pain and frustration from then on, and he hated Nocturne for it. Not only did they take Vlad’s mother from him for good, they had tainted the very thought of her in his mind. Referring to his mother was a force of habit he would be forced to break painfully. Ula understood Vlad’s pain and placed her hand on his arm.

  “Why don’t you wait for me at my farm?” Vlad said. He heard the sad tone in his voice and stared at the ground.

  “I’m sorry about your mother,” Ula said, hugging Vlad. “I wanted to stop them, but they would have killed me, too, Vlad.”

  “It’s okay, love,” Vlad said. “There was nothing you could have done.”

  Ula kissed Vlad on the lips.

  “I must go,” Vlad said.

  “I want to stay,” Ula protested with big, sad, childish eyes and a pout on her lips.

  “We’ll be hours here, and you’d be better off somewhere warm and quiet,” Vlad said.

  “Very well, I’ll see you back at the farm,” Ula said as she petulantly kicked some pebbles.

  Ula kissed Vlad on the cheek and trudged across the town square in disappointment. Inside, Vlad felt sorry for her. He put such sentiments aside and joined Pierre for the drill.

  Pierre paced up and down with his hands behind his back. “Now, men,” Pierre said. The knight was clearly in his element. “We are facing a most cunning opponent,” he said. “The only way to beat such an opponent is to outsmart him. We are facing an airborne enemy, so we will have to use arrows to knock as many of their attackers out as we can.”

  The knight ordered several of the men to go to the barn and bring out sacks and bales of hay. Anything that could withstand the force of an arrow would be put to good use.

  “Now, my brave warriors,” Pierre continued, “I want you to hit these targets as many times as you can.”

  The farmers queued up with enthusiasm and fired their arrows at the targets. They seemed to hit everything except the bullseye.

  “Don’t worry,” Pierre reassured them. “You are just starting; keep going.”

  After several rounds of target practice, the grouping improved. Vlad and another young man named Ivan were the only ones being deadly accurate, but it surprised Pierre how soon the others followed their lead. Vlad also had a few secret weapons, not enough to defeat all the vampires, but enough to inflict a mortal blow when the time was right. It was a safety device, a last resort if all else failed. Vlad had to marshal his forces. “Citizens of Nocturne!” Vlad said.

  Pierre and his trainee troops stopped their activities. The knight was curious to hear what Vlad had to say.

  “Listen, my friends,” Vlad said. “We are fighting to save our village. We are fighting to save our homes, our loved ones. We are fighting to defeat evil. We are fighting to regain control of our lives...If we fight like this against Deadulus, he will crush us. You have to concentrate. Concentrate!”

  The men encouraged each other and took aim again. With increasing regularity, they hit the target. They were still not hitting the bullseye, but at least they were heading in the right direction and getting closer all the time.

  Pierre walked over to Vlad and patted him on the shoulder. “An eloquent speech, my friend,” the knight said warmly. “Your father would have been proud.”

  “How do you know that?” Vlad asked. “You never knew my father.”

  “I knew your father, Vlad,” Pierre said hesitantly.

  Vlad snapped his head around to look at Pierre. “What? How?” Vlad said.

  “Yes, I knew him,” the knight said. “I fought alongside him many years ago.”

  “Go on,” Vlad said.

  “Your father was in Mortis selling cattle,” the cavalier began, “I was recruiting men for the crusade against the heathens. I persuaded him to join up. The signing-up fee went straight back to your mother and you; I made sure of that. I trained him in the ways of combat. He was a superb fighter. One of the best I ever trained. When he finished his tour of duty, he returned home. A few years ago, he sent word he needed my help in a local battle.”

  “McLintock’s Spit?” Vlad enquired.

  The knight nodded sadly. “I couldn’t make the journey,” Pierre continued, “I got involved in a major battle with heretics.”

  Vlad’s head dropped at the thought that the painful loss of his father was avoidable.

  “When I heard he had been killed, I-“ the knight said. He broke off his sentence and became emotional. Pierre took several steps forward, took a deep breath and composed himself. He then went over to where Vlad stood once more. “When I heard he was gone, I said a prayer for him,” he said.

  “You mean you could have saved him?” Vlad said.

  “I have come here now to make amends,” the knight said. “I have never forgiven myself for refusing to come to his aid.”

  “You mean to tell me that the only reason you are helping me is because of your guilty conscience?” Vlad asked. His jaw clenched with anger.

  “Of course not,” the knight insisted. “Let me explain.”

  Vlad turned away from the knight.

  “Vlad!” the knight said. Pierre grabbed hold of his friend’s arm to stop him from leaving and make him listen.

  “Leave me alone!” Vlad said. He broke free of Pierre’s grip and stormed acros
s Nocturne town square. “My father died because you let him down!” Vlad said. ‘I lost my mother going to find you. You’re like Deadulus. You both want to wipe the Ingisbohr name from the face of the earth! Stay away from me!”

  The farmers had stopped their target practice and were looking over to where the distraction originated.

  “Keep firing, men,” the knight insisted. The assault on the targets began again. The knight stared across the square and then looked up to Heaven, shaking his head.

  The training continued until sunset. For once, nobody was in a hurry to get indoors. The threat of vampire attack was non-existent on that one night of the year. Vlad and de la Costa took care of potential vampires by beheading and cremating any fresh corpses. The remaining victims would probably last the night and would not be any danger. Following this gruesome work, Vlad and Pierre quietly made the journey back to Vlad’s farm without saying a word to each other.

  “I need rest,” Pierre finally said.

  “Make yourself comfortable in my home,” Vlad said. “I will follow later.”

  “You need sleep, too,” Pierre said. “There’s no time to rest on a battlefield.”

  “Leave me alone,” Vlad said tearfully as he turned away. “My heart is broken.”

  Vlad’s wolf Zoltan wandered in right then from his bed in the other room. Pierre went for his sword; Vlad stood him down with an assuaging wave of his hand. The knight sheathed his weapon. The animal sensed the stress its owner was under and the whole tragedy that had befallen the Ingisbohr household. Zoltan put his head on Vlad’s lap and whined. The touch of affection snapped Vlad out of the grief he was feeling and saved him from coming apart at that moment. Vlad stroked Zoltan’s head. His pet’s warm presence reminded Vlad that something still needed him, and that love remained, however small, in his family home. For Zoltan’s sake, Vlad held everything together and let out a big sigh. Zoltan sniffed Pierre’s gloved hand. The knight reciprocated by petting the wolf with great reluctance.

  “You have strange allies, Vlad Ingisbohr,” Pierre said.

  “Aye, none more so than you!” Vlad said, summoning a valiant half-smile before his countenance clouded over again.