“She’s legendary. How did you find her?” Arne paces in the small hollow.
“As I said, she found me.”
“There’s too much risk. Prove that this group can make a difference.”
“Orm,” I call out and wave over.
His gait is slower than I’d like, and I switch my weight between my feet, waiting for him to join us. “There’s a witch named Amaud held by a tribe in Norway. I believe he is from this coven, and we can negotiate his safe return.”
Orm returns to stand before Arne. “Have you heard?”
“Yes, Amaud’s my brother. He was reckless and wild, wanted more than our village had to offer. He pushed the limits and went too far, got taken when we were quite young. I was mad at him for many years, but no one deserves to be a slave for life.”
Orm turns his head to look at me, and I nod. “It shall be. We shall return with Amaud.”
Will leans over and whispers. “Are you sure you should’ve promised such? You don’t know that Erik will hand over Amaud.”
“If Erik believes he may have use of a whole coven of witches, I believe he’ll at least talk to Arne.”
“Because of Erik’s feud with his brother?” Will paces away and back.
“Yes, they may have stopped killing, but they’re still not friends.”
“Smart. I guess I am to see my homeland, after all.”
“Yes, you are.” I squeeze his arm.
Waiting for Orm to join us, we start our trek south and north again to Erik’s border. Warriors greet us, and we run with them to Erik’s dwelling.
“Aye.” Erik greets Will in their traditional manner. “Our explorer son has returned. What say you? There’s much talk of your work all around the world.” Erik’s eyes land on me. “Some good. Some not so good. Hosting you is dangerous. The witches aren’t happy with your activities.”
I step towards Erik. “That’s why we’re here. We want to befriend the witches, negotiate peace with them.” I motion to Jacob, and he releases Orm from the sling. “Orm is of the same tribe as Amaud. They need proof that I’m able to negotiate with the vampire tribes. If you’d be willing to release Amaud, we can show them talks are possible.”
“I’m not partial to losing my witch. Why would I release him?”
“Their coven may be kind to you if you are to them, perhaps lend help when needed.”
“Aye, I see your logic. Smart woman. Let us speak with Amaud then.” Erik motions to his cabin.
Inside Erik explains our mission to Amaud. “You talked to my brother? There is little love lost between us.”
“Arne would be very glad to see you.” I offer my hand as Amaud seems to be unsteady in his gait.
“How’s Arne? Probably looks better than me. Being separated from the coven, I’ve lost almost all my magic.”
“Why do you stay?” Orm looks between Amaud and Erik.
Amaud chuckles. “We’ve developed quite a friendship over the years. Erik’s my brother in every way.”
“So, he’s free to go?” I address Erik.
“I would like to meet Arne, speak with him myself to negotiate our terms.” Erik wrings his hands, and I think I can see him drooling.
I smile at Will, and he winks. “Of course, Arne would be happy to meet with you. Shall we travel there on the morrow?”
“We shall, but first, feast with us. You’ve grown to be a beautiful, strong woman.” Erik offers me his hand.
Erik spares no wants, having his hunters kill two large reindeer and offering vats of wine. Orm sits with Amaud, wide eyes darting between the animals, dancers, lights in the sky, and the darkness behind him.
“You didn’t tell me your powers could disappear if you were away from a coven.” I lower myself to the ground beside Orm.
He shrugs. “He didn’t use his magic enough. I’m guessing he was only allowed to use it when Erik wished it.”
“So, you’re not in that danger?”
A smile spreads across his face. “Are you worried for me or for yourself?”
“I’m just trying to figure out how the gift works. The differences between us and the humans seem more physical in nature than your powers are. Your abilities seem somewhat magical, like they’re bestowed rather than innate in your being from birth.”
“They’re both. And yes, that’s why they call it magic. But, one has to be born of the line to have these capabilities.”
“That’s good to know. Thank you for sharing the information.” I find Elizabeth and sit with her for the rest of the feast.
Resting the next day, we pack and head out at sunset. Will carries Amaud, Jacob carries Orm, and Gregor carries Erik, as he has become quite frail in his old age. After a night’s travel, our troop reaches Arne’s village. Seeming to sense our presence, the witches exit their dwellings and form a line at the edge of their settlement.
Amaud wrings his hands and mutters under his breath. I lean towards Orm to whisper in his ear. “What is he saying? I don’t recognize the language.”
“It’s the coven’s prayer if you will."
I stand erect and wait for Arne to approach. Seeing him slide through the line of witches, I instruct Orm to take Amaud to meet him. The two proceed across the meadow, stopping a few feet from Arne. I hold my breath, wondering if the two will attack or embrace each other.
“Brother.” Arne extends his arm to Amaud.
“Brother.” Amaud grips Arne’s forearm and wraps his other around his back, pulling the man into a hug. “Forgive me, I was young and reckless.”
Arne releases Amaud. “Yes, you were reckless, but you always were. How are you, how has your life been?”
Amaud glances back at Erik. “I’ve enjoyed it. Most of my magic left me, but Erik and I have had many adventures.”
Erik starts towards the two, offering his arm in friendship as he reaches them.
Arne accepts the gesture. “So, you’re my brother’s captor.”
“Yes, I won’t ask forgiveness. Amaud killed one of my warriors for sport, but I didn’t end his life. Instead we’ve enjoyed many years of torturing my brother together.”
Amaud chuckles. “It’s true.” He focuses on his brother again. “You know I’d never have been happy here.”
“So, what say you?” Arne asks. “Is he released from service?”
“If your coven can show me friendship, he’s free to do as he pleases.”
Arne straightens his back. “What type of friendship? I won’t be used in a battle between tribes.”
“No. I’ve tired of taunting my brother, but I’d ask protection in case of witch problems”—Erik turns his head our way—“which seem to be close at hand.”
Arne cuts his eyes our way. “I have to confer with the elders. How should I let you know our decision?”
“Meet us in the glen,” I whisper.
Erik relays the message to Arne, and I whisk away, heading for the valley. My troop along with Amaud and Erik are close on my heels. We hunt and feed before midday, but no one can rest.
“Is that how your travels are? Endless days, years of waiting?” Elizabeth asks.
“Yes and no.” I smile and dip my hand in the cold brook. “I’ve seen the seven oceans, colored lights dancing across the night sky, water lit up with creatures I can’t even fathom, whales jumping high above the surf, monkeys, huge giraffes, elephants, and the tiniest of humming birds, so much of what Mother Earth has born.”
Elizabeth wraps her arms around me. “You love the earth and all its inhabitants despite the hand dealt to you. You truly are a magnificent creature.”
My face warms, and I back away from her touch. “Thank you.” I look to the sky. “Let’s not judge until we’ve seen the sum total of my days walking this earth.”
The sweet smell of witches drafts to my nose, and I lift my face to see Arne with three others on the ridge.
“Tell them only Arne may come.” I square my shoulders and raise my chin, knowing the moment to expose my identity has
come.
Will and Jacob flank me, and we wait for Arne to join us. Orm lights the sage and repeats the incantation to mask our words from those outside the circle.
When he’s finished, I lift my hood from my head. “Do you know who I am?”
“May I?” Arne opens his palm.
“You may.” I lay my hand in his.
Arne’s eyes dart to mine. “Orm has told the truth, I must admit. I thought you only rumor. Such pain you’ve suffered at the hands of witches, yet you still strive to make peace with us.”
“Thank you for coming. Has your tribe decided? Will you trade aid to Erik’s tribe for your brother’s freedom?”
I know it’s a lot to ask of them, to defend an enemy species from attack by your own kind. Still, I must know how far they’re willing to go to regain one of their own.
“We have a stipulation. We’ll only lend help if an attack is unprovoked and irrational. And, we ask for reciprocal defense against any vampires who may seek to harm us.” Arne’s eyes fall on Erik’s.
“Do you accept?” I ask Erik.
“Yes. I give Amaud his freedom.” Erik pats Amaud on the back.
“Brother.” Arne wraps his arms around Amaud.
“May I ask another favor of you, Arne?” I inquire once they’ve parted. “You seem to want peace with our people. Is that true?”
“Yes, it’s best for everyone, witches, vampires, and the humans. There are too many of us now. We won’t survive without working together.”
“I agree. Can I ask you to suggest two of your coven who would travel with us, be representatives to other covens?”
Arne’s eyes cut to his men at the top of the hill. “I can’t force any to go with you, but I will ask as I know several who, like my brother, are not content with life in our small settlement.”
“We would be most grateful. This must be a secret arrangement. My identity and our goal can’t go beyond the confines of this glen. Do you swear it? Can we trust you?” I hold his stare.
“I do.” Arne agrees.
“Let’s seal the pact with our handshakes.” Orm extends his hand into the circle.
Arne, Erik, and I lock arms in agreement. Orm blows on the sage, extinguishing the flames.
As Arne turns to go, he motions for Amaud to follow. “Brother.”
Amaud shakes his head. “I’m sorry, brother. But I’m fond of my life with the tribe. We are family now. I wish to stay with them.”
Arne chuckles. “I thought that’s what you would choose. It’s good to know you’re alive and have had a good life. Will you stay with us a couple of days?”
Amaud looks to Erik who nods. “We will.”
Will grasps my arm as we climb to the top of the ridge. “We can’t carry all these witches. They need horses.”
Following the witches to their village, our troop waits as they gather representatives and horses. We request three, one of each of their men, and one for Orm. The animals whinny and stamp as I approach with a hand full of grasses. After several hours, they grow accustomed to our scent, and we prepare for the next stage of our journey.
Each of the witches receives a crystal for their necks. We plan to follow the horses, crystal-shielded studs held ready for a potential attack.
“Are all vampires so leery of those who offer help?” the witch named Hewitt asks. “Look at your numbers? There are three of us and nine of you. We would tire before killing all of you.”
Will approaches Hewitt. “And what if it were only two vampires to a witch?”
“It may be a fairer fight,” the second representative offers.
“Are all witches so daft as to inform vampires as to how to kill their own?” Jacob whispers under his breath as he stuffs his pack full of bread loaves.
I furrow my brow and give Jacob a hard stare followed by a wink. Then I fit my fingers in my mouth and whistle, signaling for our troop to move. Heading west, we intercept several covens. The witches make contact and convey our purpose. In general, their settlements tend to be closer grouped with humans, as they share more similarities than vampire species do. We stay clear of more populated areas as well as large covens. In almost a year of traveling through Russia, then China, India, Africa, and to the fringes of European civilizations, one in five covens agree that they may attend a summit of both species. Even with these low numbers, we learn much. Smaller covens are more receptive, and Michael’s line shuts us out every time.
For all my talk of loving travel, the lack of success depresses me. I want to make more progress with the witch covens. Still, I realize my focus must be on our people. Our species must agree to peace with the witches before we can ask them to talk.
“Will you remain with us, or would you prefer to rejoin your family’s coven when this is over?” I ask Orm as we start to consider plans for the vampire tribunal.
He looks to Hewitt and the other representative from his coven and then back to me. “No, my place is with you. You’re my family now. I will remain with you.”
An almost overwhelming sense of belonging washes over me. Here sits this age-old being, wise beyond anyone’s years, and seemingly with virtues as pure as any being I’ve met, willing to risk his life for our cause. Gratitude for the life and comrades—nay, family—Mother Earth has graced me with fills my being. For all my losses, they’ve been replaced two-fold. Yes, my real father was taken from me, but I was given Henry, and now Orm. I sense he will help me stay the course and keep me from attempting something too reckless. I place my hand on his arm. “Thank you, friend.”
1699
A date is set for the tribunal, and our sentinels spread the information throughout the old country.
“I don’t know why you insist on the same year before the turn of the century,” Will complains. “Did we learn nothing? Witch activity is higher than it’s ever been.”
“In part, I do it to honor them. Don’t worry friend. Besides, Mabon is my favorite holiday. Everyone is always happy around the holidays. We will eat, drink, and dance. Happy vampires equal peaceful talks.” I wrap my hand around his. “We have a good location.”
“Yes, if we don’t burn to a crisp or die of hydration trying to get there.”
“That’s why it’s perfect.” I wrap my arms around a palm’s trunk and start to climb. “Witches aren’t as hardy as we are. It’ll be harder for them to attack.”
“And you’re sure our supposed witch friends won’t betray us.” Will starts up the tree, and it sways with his weight.
“What are you doing? This tree won’t hold both of us,” I yell down. “Nothing is ever for certain.” I shimmy up to pull a coconut from a branch. Tucking the nut under one arm, I drop to the ground. “Come on, we’ve got some camels to buy.”
Orm, Gregor, Will, Jacob, and I enter a market outside Cairo to obtain camels. As our group has grown with representatives from various tribes and covens, we acquire ten, thinking two witches can ride at a time and vampires can switch as we tire.
Camels walk slowly, but we trot them some, crossing fifty to sixty miles a day. We reach the base of the mighty Mount Kilimanjaro in forty-five days. Gregor and John wind round to the south with the witches where they plan to climb halfway to the top. Placing our sentinels along the path, we create a trail for the vampire representatives to follow. A day before the equinox, we gather between the cones of the three volcanoes: Kibo, Mawenzi, and Shira.
With the fires burning bright, the night comes alive as more join us for the feast. Some play instruments, others dance, and I stare into the flames, remembering the dress Elizabeth slipped over my head the night my family burned, fighting the emptiness that lingers under the surface. You are not alone.
“I don’t understand why you say this is your favorite holiday.” Elizabeth brings me out of my trance. “You always seem so sad.”
“But it keeps me close to them, to their dream.” I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “And it reminds me to be grateful for all I have, that nothing is promised in this l
ife.”
She squeezes my hand. “We’re very lucky to have had each other all these years.”
The next morning, we review events of the century since our last tribunal. The Countess Elisabeth Bathory, who is accused of killing six hundred fifty women, raises concerns for our population in that area, and is a major topic. In the end, we decide that local tribes must police their people before humans take notice.
“She seemed to have unnatural abilities to lure victims,” one witness explains. “Our attempts to subdue her weren’t successful. Every time we tried to plot against her, she escaped.”
“Do you believe she had magical abilities, was perhaps a mixture of vampire and witch?” I ask.
Whispers spread through the room.
“It very well could be,” the witness reports. “Some of the servants were very loyal and helped her hide the bodies. The countess not only drank their blood but mutilated the victims beyond recognition.”
Following more discussion, the edict that no witch and vampire child shall be sired is repeated and upheld by the representatives. Talks stretch into the next day. There’s concern for the hysteria growing in central Europe, the dead unearthed and staked, for fear they are vampires. Once all the concerns are voiced and questions answered, I tell them of the witch ambassadors on the other side of the mountain.
“What if I told you I know some witches who are willing to make peace, pledge a truce?” I ask the group.
Silence falls, and then the whispers reignite.
“Don’t be shy. What say you?” I question.
“How could we trust it? How does it benefit us? Why would they approach you? How could we distinguish those honoring a truce from the rest?” The queries roll in.
“They are witnesses for their people’s thirst for peace,” I finish my plea.
Whether out of curiosity or disbelief, all gathered follow us down the southern slope. I tell our tribunal about the cave in Mexico and the crystal that blocks magic. Gregor, John, and Orm meet us first, and I relay the story of how I met Orm in the woods.
“So, you’ve been keeping a witch? Isn’t that against your own principals?” a vampire from Russia accuses.
Kingdom of the Damned: Provocation (KIngdom Journals) Page 25
