Holiday In Malancrav: A Wolfric Vampire Novel (The Wolfric Vampire Series Book 1)

by Jon F. Merz

  “Yes. The unarmed combat I have been teaching you is for when your weapons are not available, have been stripped from you, or are otherwise not capable of doing the necessary work. But no man traveling throughout Europe would be seen unarmed unless they wished to be accosted at every turn of their journey.”

  “But I’ve never used any weapons aside from a knife.”

  “Good,” said Felix. “Then we have a starting point. The knife is the first of the bladed weapons family. The sword will come soon enough. And you will need to master both a bow and arrow and a crossbow. Then there are firearms as well. In short, you must become adept with every tool of lethality known to man and vampire. As I said, our world is one where we deal in death. You must become a master at it. Your own survival will well depend on your ability to be faster and more efficient at killing than any of your opponents.”

  “Very well,” said Wolfric. “I’m not sure how I’m going to kill someone, however.”

  “No one knows how they will kill until they are presented with the situation where they need to. And you will find there is nothing romantic about it. It will come down - as it always does - to a matter of kill or be killed. Your job is to kill members of our race who disobey our laws and put the rest of us at risk. Those people we are assigned to kill will not want to die anymore than anyone else ever does. And they will fight to stay alive. Fight to cling to their lives. They will do their best to see you dead before them. You must be stronger and more capable than anyone else. Always.”

  “How many have you killed?”

  Felix took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “There will be time to discuss that later. The number of people I’ve executed does not matter. I know what I can do. Now you must discover what you can do.”

  Chapter 12

  It took another two days of travel before Felix brought them into a larger town closer to Vienna. Rains had plagued much of their journey over the previous forty-eight hours, making the roads a muddy affair. While Felix seemed nonplussed by the drenching downpours, Wolfric found it difficult to put up with the ceaseless deluges that quickly soaked him through and left him shivering in front of the small fires each night doing his best to stay warm.

  As always, Felix simply endured everything without complaint. He would roll up into his traveling cloak and fall asleep no matter the conditions.

  The prospect of finally getting proper shelter and possibly a hot bath, warmed Wolfric’s soul, however. Especially when Felix told him that they could not go shopping looking as ragamuffin as they both did.

  “A proper cleansing is required,” said Felix. “And perhaps a shave as well.”

  Wolfric stoked the underside of his chin and found that the stubby growth he’d had during his time in the dungeons of the Burgermeister had grown significantly and he now sported a full-fledged beard. He felt Felix eyeing him and nodded. “I wasn’t aware I was quite so…bushy.”

  Felix smiled. “There will be times when such growth is a benefit, depending on where we may be operating. However, as we are about to enter a city and outfit ourselves for the trip ahead, it would be better if the shopkeepers saw us as men of wealth rather than riffraff they can dismiss with a wave. The aura we project is important; if we wish people to pay us respect, we must first show that we respect ourselves. Otherwise, they will simply assume - wrongfully - that they can do with us what they will. And that is unacceptable.”

  “Understood,” said Wolfric. “Even though I’m not quite sure what you mean about aura.”

  “Your presence,” said Felix. “The air that you carry about you. Think of it as the greatest of roles an actor may be inclined to perform. You must ‘dress for the part,’ that you are going to play. You wouldn’t try to sneak into an abbey dressed as a brigand, would you? Of course not. You would assume the dress and mannerisms of a monk.”

  “So what you told me about friction. That applies here, too?”

  Felix pursed his lips. “To some extent. This might be almost the opposite of that, however. Whereas we try to avoid friction when we’re trying to remain unnoticed and unobserved, there are times when we actually do need to create friction in order to accomplish our goals. This is one of those times. We must adopt an air of higher stature in order to acquire the things that will help us do our job. In other cases, such an air might help us obtain information about people or a location or some other thing that would otherwise be hidden to us. The talent is knowing when each state is called for. Certainly we wouldn’t want to be smooth, so to speak, at an outfitter.” He winked. “Unless, of course, we were attempting to pilfer certain items.”

  Felix guided them into the town and got them squared away at a better quality inn than the one they’d stayed in previously. Each room housed a magnificent bed and a small bath. Wolfric had never seen such quarters before. And he found himself wondering where Felix got all the money to pay for this.

  “We are paid well by the Council,” his teacher answered. “And when we are on assignment, the Council covers our expenses.”

  “But surely they do not get billed by the inn?”

  “Of course not,” said Felix. “I carry gold with me to pay for everything. And there are caches of it around the countryside of Europe that I know the locations of. If need be, we are never far from money.”

  “Amazing.”

  Felix shrugged. “The Council, for all of its growing pains, took the time to ensure that its agents could do the work they needed without carrying around chests full of gold coins.”

  Now, Wolfric stood before a bath filled with steaming hot water and soap. He stepped into it gingerly, afraid he might scald himself. But it wasn’t too hot and he slid in, feeling as though he could drift away on clouds of steam. After basking in the heat and feeling the last vestiges of the cold leave his bones, he began soaping up. The water changed from clear to dirty within minutes and he was forced to call the attendants to ask for a fresh bath so he could be perfectly clean.

  Bathed and dressed in a set of basic clothes given to him by Felix, they ventured out to the barber where Felix directed the man to give them both shaves with the straight razor. Wolfric felt his face lathered up and then the brisk strokes of the razor across his face and neck. He knew that any mistake could cut him deeply and send his blood spraying about the place. But that just added to the thrill of it.

  A hot piece of soft cloth was applied after the shave and then he was sent on his way with Felix. Outside in the brisk air, his cheeks stung from the cold, but he felt lighter than he had in a long time.

  Felix looked him over. “Nothing like a bath and a shave to make you feel almost like a man again, eh?”

  “What a wonderful sensation,” said Wolfric. “I haven’t felt this good in many weeks.”

  Felix nodded. “And now it’s time to get you outfitted for the task ahead. Consider this something of a break before our real work begins, my young apprentice. You will be tested in ways you have not yet imagined. But for now, enjoy this respite. Just never forget-“

  “-Everything is a test,” finished Wolfric.

  “Indeed,” said Felix. But he smiled just the same. “You’re learning.”

  They arrived at the tailor first and Felix directed him to take exact measurements for the pants and shoes as well as several shirts. “He will also require a pair of excellent traveling boots.”

  The shopkeeper took his measurements and then sent them away with the promise of the goods by nightfall. Outside again, Felix eyed the surrounding area and nodded to himself.

  “We need weapons for you.” He put a finger to his nose and then clapped Wolfric on his back. “This way. Stay close.”

  They walked among the crowds and Wolfric marveled at how easily his teacher seemed to sense the flow of the throngs. Whenever there was an ebb or flow, Felix would adjust without seeming to, ensuring that their travel was constant instead of stilted and disrupted. He could move as smoothly through a crowd as he wanted and Wolfric did his best to observe e
verything his teacher did.

  The gun store sat at the end of the street apart from the rest of the town. As they approached, Wolfric could hear the crack of guns being fired at a small range that had been set up behind the store for patrons to try out their purchases.

  “I’ve never fired one before,” said Wolfric as they approached.

  Felix smiled. “Then you will learn, as I had to when I began my service. No one is born being a master of everything. Remember that. All masters were once beginners. What seems impossible to you now may one day seem as easy as drawing a breath. Making mistakes means you are learning and that is what we are after.”

  Inside, a few patrons lingered, conducting business before departing. Felix struck up a conversation with one of the shopkeepers and before too long, Wolfric had three flintlock pistols on the counter before him.

  “Well, sir, fancy any of these then?”

  Wolfric picked up the guns one at a time and felt their heft in his hand, judging the weight. He extended his arm and sighted down the barrel, testing how it might feel to actually fire it. He settled on a pistol that he judged felt about the right weight. He wouldn’t be shooting any of his fellow vampires with it, but humans were sometimes more dangerous than his own kind. He needed a weapon he could count on if they ran into trouble. He had no doubt that Felix would be counting on him to be able to hold his own and he didn’t wish to let his teacher down.

  “I think this one will do nicely.”

  “An excellent choice, sir,” said the shopkeeper.

  Felix smiled as well. “It is what I would have chosen were I in your place.”

  “Can I shoot it then?’ asked Wolfric a bit too eagerly.

  The shopkeeper and Felix both laughed at the same time.

  “We have some time,” said Felix. “I think firing the weapon would be a wise idea, indeed. Let us find out if you can hit anything with it.”

  Chapter 13

  Wolfric took an hour learning the basics of marksmanship from Felix behind the gun store. Just learning how to pack the powder and load the balls into the barrel was difficult enough, let alone learning how to properly hold the pistol and aim. But by the end of the hour, Wolfric felt like he could at least operate the pistol if it came down to saving his life. He resolved that until he knew how to shoot better, he would go to the pistol as a last resort. He mentioned this to Felix as they left and his teacher nodded his approval.

  “Our swords are our primary weapons. But carry the pistol primed and loaded when it appears we may need them regardless. An extra shot might well give us the advantage.”

  “Everyone for miles around will hear the shots,” said Wolfric.

  “Indeed. I would prefer that we not have to reveal ourselves if at all possible. Going into a place with guns blazing is not how we function best. We gather information, take the pains to do our work carefully and without being seen, and only then when the time is right do we confront the offender and dole out our justice.”

  “You mean kill them.”

  Felix shrugged. “Call it what you will. It doesn’t change the thing.” He nodded at his student. “But at least you realize your own limitations with the pistol. Which means you need a weapon you can bring to bear with better results rather than relying on the pistol itself which is cumbersome and sometimes unwieldy.”

  They had walked back down the street and turned left on to another crowded avenue lined with market stalls and shops. In the distance, Wolfric could hear a rhythmic clanging sound and wondered if the church was tolling its bells for some strange reason. “Is it time for mass?”

  Felix chuckled. “Those aren’t church bells. That’s a blacksmith working away in the local forge. And that is precisely where we are headed.”

  “For what?”

  “For your sword,” said Felix. “And mine as well.” He hastened their progress through the crowds again and as they rounded another corner set apart from the rest of the stalls, a wall of heat greeted them.

  Wolfric watched as a huge man with thick arms raised a hammer high overhead and brought it down on the lump of metal with a resounding clang. His body was bathed in sweat and he looked as though he could squeeze the life out of any man he chose. Felix waited until he had finished hammering and slid the chunk of metal back into the fire before approaching.

  The blacksmith looked up and broke into a grin when he saw Felix. “My old friend.” He came around and extended his hand.

  Felix took it and they gave each other a quick embrace. The blacksmith stepped back and chuckled. “I haven’t seen you in forever it seems.”

  “It’s felt that long,” said Felix. He nodded at Wolfric. “This is Wolfric. My traveling companion.”

  The blacksmith stepped up close to Wolfric and frowned, looking him up and down. It felt odd to Wolfric to be sized up in this fashion, but he held the man’s eyes and after a moment, the blacksmith broke out into a big guffaw and clapped Wolfric on the back, a move that felt like he had his teeth jarred loose by a giant bear.

  “Well, he’s got the look, no doubt. Those eyes. He’ll be hell to trifle with when you’re done with him, won’t he?”

  “That is the hope,” said Felix. “For now, there is much training he needs to go through first.”

  The blacksmith held his hand out to Wolfric. “I’m Venier. Pleasure to meet ya.”

  Wolfric felt his hand swallowed up by the huge man’s hand and grinned. “Good to meet you.”

  Venier let his hand go and walked back around to the forge, removed the chunk of metal and started hammering again. Wolfric watched the sparks fly from the metal as the hammer made contact with it.

  Felix leaned closer to him. “He hammers out the impurities to make the metal stronger than it would be otherwise. This is important when it comes to any type of blade.”

  “He makes blades?” asked Wolfric.

  “He makes the best blades,” said Felix. “The knife you appropriated from me days back is one of his. But no one knows the quality of his work but us. He prefers keeping a low profile. I asked him about it one time and he said that if word got out about his work, then every privileged prince in the land would be lining up for one.”

  “But he would be rich,” said Wolfric.

  Felix nodded. “Without a doubt. But he does not do this for the money. Venier makes his blades to be used by warriors. He has no desire to see his work displayed on the wall of some manor or castle gathering dust from disuse. He wants his blades to get stained and nicked and worn down. For them to be otherwise is to have them not do what he created them to do.”

  The hammering ceased and Venier wiped his hands and face on a sweaty rag. Then he walked over to a barrel of water and plunged his head right into it, coming with a giant spray of water erupting from his long hair and beard.

  “Okay!”

  Felix laughed and moved closer to his old friend. “I wish this were just a social call, but I’m afraid we are in need of some of your excellent work.”

  Venier nodded. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way. How did the saber work out the last time?”

  “Remarkably well until I lost it over the edge of a cliff and it plummeted a thousand feet into the depths of the mad ocean far below.”

  Venier frowned. “Pity that. But at least I know you used it.”

  “Your work has saved my life on more than one occasion. And Wolfric here needs a blade as well.”

  Venier eyed Wolfric. “But the question really is, can the lad use it to proper effect?”

  “We’re working on that,” said Felix. “Time, of course, has a way of being too short. We are already due further east on an errand of some urgency. But I would not dream of walking into that region without the protection your blades will afford us.”

  “Oh, you old sweet talker, you,” said Venier. “I’ve got just the blades for you both.”

  He walked into the back of his store behind a rough tarpaulin and Wolfric heard a lot of clanging around as bit and pieces fell
from racks and shelves. Venier shouted a stream of obscenities and profanity the likes of which Wolfric had never heard before and he found himself grinning in spite of it all.

  “He’s colorful,” said Felix.

  Venier emerged from under the tarpaulin carrying an armful of swords and various daggers. He dropped them all on the slab of a table before them and rummaged through them. He brought out a slightly curved saber roughly twenty-four inches long with a simple hilt and hefted it before handing it over to Felix.

  “Give that a try.”

  Felix unsheathed the blade and Wolfric gasped at how the light caught the length of the blade and made it gleam. Felix stepped back away from the table and did a few test swings with the sword, cutting through the air.

  Wolfric heard the swishes and marveled at how his teacher made the blade dance in the air. When he was done, Felix resheathed the blade and nodded to Venier. “It’s excellent and I shall be honored to wear it into battle.”

  The smile that broke out along Venier’s face was one for the ages, Wolfric decided. The blacksmith turned to him next and said, “And for this one…” His voice trailed off as he brought out a sword a few inches shorter than Felix’s and handed it over to him.

  Wolfric felt the weight in his hands and stepped back as he’d seen Felix do, then he gripped the saber by the handle and pulled it free in one smooth movement. The sword felt light yet sturdy, as if it could cleave the air itself into two. Wolfric took a few swings and to his amazement, the sword seemed to move about on its own, as if guided by some mysterious force. He delighted in how it moved and when he’d done some more swings, he resheathed it and looked up.

  Both Venier and Felix were eyeing him.

  “What?”

  Venier looked at Felix who looked back at him. And then they both fell out laughing.

  “Well, all right then,” said Venier. “Perhaps maybe this one has a bit of a swordsman in his blood, eh?”Felix looked at Wolfric. “That was quite the display. Have you ever had training with a blade before?”