The Christian & Brina Collection

by Judith Post

  Brina spoke first. “More witches remain than you and me. Everyone hides their powers, but we each have gifts. Together, we might help you.”

  “Some still live?” Christian didn’t hunt and persecute magic in his lands, but he’d never encouraged it either. As far as he knew, it didn’t exist.

  “Witches are the natural enemies of vampires. We fear them,” Jarman said. “If they live, you have reason to hope.”

  Christian turned on his heel. “I’ll rouse my men. We’ll bring people together at the keep. We’ll form a plan.”

  Jarman glanced at the sky. “The sun will rise soon. I must return to my pack. If you still choose to fight with us, fly a black flag on your rampart wall, and we’ll come to you at sunset. No need to lower your drawbridge. No moat will protect you from vampires.”

  “It will be done. I’ll see you then.” The eight-foot, outside wall that protected the villages would be of no use. Neither would the inside wall that surrounded the fortress. Christian stalked toward the keep, Brina at his side.

  Jarman disappeared into the shadows.

  At the fortress gate, Christian called, “Guards, gather my men!” As he crossed the castle’s courtyard, sun rays lit his path. That would be one advantage. The undead couldn’t attack during the day. They had to hide from the light. Maybe he could use that against them.

  When they reached the heavy doors of his keep, Brina pulled away from him. “I’ll spread word that any witch of any kind is needed to defend us. I’ll ask them to join you here.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You never told me. What is your magic? I hope it’s not only that you can be endlessly drained of blood.”

  She pressed her lips together in a firm line. “I don’t like to talk of it.”

  “You’d risk my displeasure to guard your secret?”

  It was her turn to raise an eyebrow, this time in disapproval. The girl certainly had a mind of her own. “It’s better no one knows.”

  He studied her a minute. He could insist, but decided against it. He’d learned that some things were best left alone. “All right, then, bring any witch you can to my keep.”

  Her glance was grateful. She turned to leave.

  Christian looked at the horizon. Hot beams bathed the earth. He hurried into the great hall. He wanted to talk with his mother. She not only practiced the healing arts, but also divination. They needed all the help they could get. His fire gifts might not be enough to survive this battle.

  * * *

  At sunset, Christian stood watch on the walkway near the guard tower. A black flag hung on a pole on the high turret. Movements made him turn to see Jarman, along with a dozen others, land at the end of the walk.

  “Are we welcome? Or should we move on?” Jarman asked.

  Christian motioned to the flag. “You’re allies. We need you.”

  “Likewise.” Jarman started toward him, but a stocky man pushed past him.

  “Is Brina here? Where’s my daughter?”

  “I’ll take you to her. Everyone’s meeting at the long table, laying plans.” Christian led them down steep, stone steps to the courtyard before entering his keep.

  A tall, blond female hesitated before stepping inside. She held back while the others passed her. Christian turned to wait for her. She refused to enter.

  Jarman went to her. “Aldith?”

  The woman glanced back at the forest beyond the outermost wall. “Mortals captured Cedany. They forced her to drink from them, so that she changed into the monster she never wanted to be. And then they staked her. We know nothing of these people. What if soldiers wait inside with silver chains?”

  “These mortals have no bloodlust. They only wish to protect themselves, as do we.”

  Aldith shook her head, took a step backward. “I don’t like castles. I don’t like the smell of mortals.” Her words halted as Christian’s mother left the great hall and walked toward them. Lady Enid’s smile and outstretched hand caught her off guard.

  “My dear, we’re so fortunate you’ve joined us in this battle.” Lithe and beautiful, Christian’s mother emanated kindness. She placed a hand on the vampire’s arm. “You’re so chilly. There’s a fire inside. Come and make yourself comfortable.”

  Aldith blinked in surprise. “My flesh is always cold. I’m an undead.”

  Lady Enid’s soft laugh greeted her words. “Silly of me. You’re so lovely, I forgot. But it’s not safe for you to be out here on your own.” She wrapped her arm around the girl’s waist. “The men have their heads together, discussing strategy. I’m doing embroidery by the fireplace. I’d love to have some female company.”

  Aldith darted Jarman a helpless look and let Lady Enid lead her inside.

  Christian smiled. “My mother is a force to be reckoned with.”

  Jarman gave a quick nod. “Would that we all were under such kind influences.”

  They followed behind the women, and Christian led Jarman to the others.

  Warriors crowded around the long, wooden table. A half dozen women in peasant garb entered by the scullery door and gathered uncertainly behind the men. Brina came to join them, included with the witches. The vampires huddled near the arch to the courtyard and visibly relaxed when Jarman came to join them.

  Once certain his friends were safe, Caedmon went straight to his daughter.

  Brina saw him and flung herself into his arms.

  Christian strode to take his place at the head of the table when he stopped in surprise, glancing at the witches. “Cook?” he asked.

  The older woman whom he’d known since childhood looked at him uneasily. Short and squat, with her gray hair scraped back in a bun, as usual, she looked as if she might cry. “My lord.”

  “You’re a witch? You harbored this girl all these years without my knowledge?”

  She shifted from one foot to the other. When she spoke, her voice cracked with distress. “I would never do anything to harm you or your mother, my lord. You know how I’ve doted on you, but your uncle ruled when Caedmon brought her to me. I feared….”

  Christian held up a hand to silence her. “Rightly so. You did well.”

  “I hid my gift.” She blinked and a single tear fell. She wiped it away with her sleeve. “I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

  Christian went to her and wrapped her in a hug. “My old friend, I, too, have magic. I hope yours and your friends’ is powerful. We face powerful enemies.”

  His hug proved her undoing. Tears fell freely as she said, “My sisters’ faces appeared in my kitchen two mornings ago, in the steam from my soup pot. They glimmered, then died. I’ve lost them, I know.”

  Christian shook his head, confused.

  Cook tried to explain. “Witches from miles around once gathered in the forest to celebrate the solstices. We were sisters in spirit. We had a bond.”

  Jarman asked, “Did they live near here?”

  “In the manor of the next lord. He must have discovered their talents….”

  “No, the lord’s fortress fell. The vampire army killed them.”

  A warrior stood. “Christian told us of the warlord, his thirst for power and blood. If those witches couldn’t defend themselves, how can we defeat him?”

  Caedmon answered. “You forget. In all other kingdoms, to this day, witches are hunted and burned. They’ve hidden their powers for so long, they forget to use them.”

  “Is that what happened to my mother?” Brina asked.

  “She never raised a finger, forgot that she could defend herself.”

  Christian looked from one witch to the next at his table. “My men are brave and skilled at fighting, but they’re no match for the warlord and a vampire army. There are seven of you. A fair number. Can you use your powers?”

  A middle-aged woman with calloused hands held up her palm and shot a ball of white, hot energy out an arched, narrow window. “Mine’s weak, but I’ve kept it alive.”

  Another, older than the rest, waved her hands overhead, and a
protective bubble formed over them. She whispered, and the shield disappeared.

  “How many can you protect this way?” Christian asked.

  “I can cover this room. Nothing comes in, but nothing goes out. Warriors can’t shoot arrows. They’d bounce back. Nothing penetrates the magic.”

  He turned to the next witch, one of the youngest, a plain girl of maybe sixteen at most. “And you?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, frightened of her powers. She held out her hands and sparks shot from her fingertips. They threw Christian several feet away. He landed with a thud. She opened her eyes and let out a frightened sob.

  Christian staggered to his feet.

  “My lord….”

  He smiled at her. “You’re new, but strong. Learning to aim would be good.” He looked at the others. “The rest of you?”

  One witch chanted a spell and disappeared from sight. She whispered in a warrior’s ear, making him jump with a start.

  Jarman sniffed the air and pointed at where she stood. “I can smell you. So will the vampire pack.”

  She spoke more words. The aroma of too-sweet flowers filled the air.

  Jarman sniffed again and smiled. “A wise precaution. That scent spreads, masking everything else.”

  Christian looked at a witch, big with child. “You shouldn’t fight. Your time is near. Stay safe.”

  “No one will be safe if we lose this battle.” She moved her hands, and winds blew through the room. At a second wave, the gusts whipped past them, almost knocking them off their feet. At a whisper, the winds stilled.

  He looked at the last witch. “Well, Cook?”

  She waved her hands, and the floor moved beneath them. “There’s earth, water, wind, and fire. I’m an earth witch.”

  Christian frowned. “Will that be an advantage if you meet a vampire?”

  “I’ll manage.” Cook nodded toward Lady Enid. “She’s the one I worry about, one of the rare few who are healers.”

  Christian looked at his mother, leaning close to Aldith, showing her a new stitch of some kind. She couldn’t harm anyone if she wanted to. He worried, too. His eyes settled on the last witch among them, Brina. “What’s your gift?”

  Cook stepped between them. “We pledge ourselves to you, my lord. We’ll do what we can to save you and yours.”

  Christian raised an eyebrow at her odd interference. Voice stern, he snapped, “I asked a question. I expect an….” Brina wrung her hands, flustered. His words faltered. Why the need for secrecy? Were her gifts that small? Surely, being drained wasn’t her only power. But Brina was obviously upset. He stammered to an awkward finish. “We fight together, or die together. The vampire army that’s coming for us will show no mercy.”

  The pregnant witch nodded toward Jarman and his band. “And them? Witches have no use for the likes of them. You want us to battle beside bloodsuckers?”

  “Some people believe there are no good witches,” Jarman shot back at her. “A man’s deeds determine his character, not his talents.”

  The witch’s gaze remained on Christian. “You trust them, my lord?”

  Christian nodded. “The warlord would make examples of them. Their deaths would be long and lingering, unlike ours. They risk a lot, taking a stand with us.”

  The witch shrugged. “If we lose, they die. They know that.” She turned to Jarman. “You swear not to bite me?”

  “No fangs will pierce your flesh if I can help it.”

  Everyone circled the table to talk strategy. Ideas flew back and forth. Opinions concentrated on the best way to defend themselves, the best way to survive.

  “The witches and vampires will be our first line of defense,” Christian told his warriors. “The only way for you to kill the warlord’s army is to stake them, aim for their heads, or slice them off.”

  “Almost impossible for mortals,” Jarman stated. “Vampires are too fast.”

  Brom, Christian’s second in command, glanced at his men. “There must be some strategy we can use.”

  Jarman hesitated, considering. “We could use silver.”

  Brom raised an eyebrow. “Silver?”

  “It’s poison to our kind. If my pack shot arrows dipped in it, the silver would weaken any enemies we hit, make them fester. They’d fall.”

  “And we could finish them.”

  Jarman nodded.

  Christian turned to his guards. “Collect and melt all our silver jewelry and coins. Dip as many arrows as you can.”

  “And when those are gone?” Brom asked.

  “We’ll shoot stakes.” Jarman glanced at the cords of wood piled near the huge, stone fireplace. “My pack and I will start carving.”

  Christian asked another question. “What if we attack first?”

  Brom frowned. “My lord?”

  Christian leaned forward, both elbows on the table. “Vampires sleep during the day. What if we go to them when the sun rises? And kill as many as we can.”

  Brom stared, speechless. Finally, he turned to Jarman. “Is this possible?”

  “Possible, but dangerous. When they realize mortals are near, they’ll wake. They can’t walk in the sunshine, but they can move inside the keep, protected by the roof and thick walls.”

  Christian persisted. “Do they separate to sleep? Go to their quarters? Or do they stay together?”

  Jarman sighed. “This is foolish, my lord. Your men would be at great risk.”

  “They’re at greater risk here, waiting for an undead horde to attack at night.”

  “And who would you send?” Agitated, Jarman leaned forward, too. “We can’t help you. We can’t travel during the day to accompany your warriors.”

  “You’d do that?” the pregnant witch asked.

  “Your fate is our fate.” Jarman turned to Christian. “So who would you send?”

  “I’d go myself.”

  Lady Enid’s head jerked toward the table. “My son….”

  Christian interrupted. “With my gift, I’d be safer than anyone else. I’d slay as many as I can, then leave.”

  “Foolishness!” Jarman slammed his hand on the tabletop, nearly splitting it.

  “Necessary. Brom can lead my warriors. You can lead your pack, and the witches can care for themselves. But the fewer enemies we face, the better.”

  “I’m going with you.” The voice was unexpected.

  Everyone turned to stare at Brina.

  “You?” Christian shook his head. “What will you do? Let them feed off you so I can run?”

  Caedmon’s brows knitted together. “You might not return, daughter.”

  “You risked your life for honor. Do you regret it?”

  He spread his hands. “My only regret is that I lost you.”

  “But you didn’t. I understood.”

  “And that’s your wish?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then so be it.”

  Christian glared at them, his arms crossed over his chest. “No.”

  Brina faced him. “Yes.”

  “I’m your lord and master. You must obey…..”

  “I’m going, too.”

  Anger churned through him. He clenched his hands into fists. “The whole reason I’m going is to protect my people. You’ll only be in the way. You’ll be of more use here.”

  “You have no idea how I’ll be of use.”

  “How can I? You won’t tell me.”

  She raised her chin. “I’m going with you.”

  Christian looked to Lady Enid. “Mother?”

  Enid took a long time to study Brina. “What’s your birth date, child?”

  “October first.”

  “The goddess Athena’s birthday.” She was silent a moment. Finally, she said, “I’m a healer. No more. No less. This girl will help you. Take her.”

  Christian gaped.

  “If you can risk your life, why can’t she?” his mother demanded.

  “She’s a girl!”

  “I’m a witch!” Brina’s hands went to her
hips.

  Christian pressed his lips together to keep from answering. When his mother sided against him, the battle was lost. “We go at sunrise.”

  Brina nodded.

  Cook stepped forward. “If she goes, I go.”

  Enough was enough! “I will not be saddled with two women!”

  “Two witches,” Cook reminded him.

  Christian tamped down his temper. He made a point of learning from his mistakes. This time, he shrugged. “As you wish. You two go fight the army. I’ll stay here.”

  Cook’s eyes flashed and she waggled a finger at him. “Don’t use strategy on me, my boy. I can help you. I’ll prove useful.”

  “Help her.” He motioned toward Brina. He’d spent his youth trying to outmaneuver Cook. He’d gotten pretty good at it. “Combine your powers and defeat our foes. We’ll wait for your return.”

  The pregnant witch laughed. “He’ll do it, you know. Admit defeat, Nesta. From what you’ve told me, he was always an obstinate boy.”

  Cook sighed, resting her arms on her bosom. “I really could help you.”

  “If you go, I stay.”

  Brina took Cook’s hand. “My friend, wish us luck. We leave at daybreak. You stay to guard the castle.”

  Cook nodded unhappily. She shot Christian a dark look. He smiled. He’d been scolded by her many times and lived to see the next day.

  * * *

  Christian was in the stables, mounting his horse, before daybreak. If he left soon enough….

  “Planning to leave without me?” Brina’s voice came from the shadows of an empty stall. “I’ve never ridden before. Lady Enid told me to mount behind you.”

  “Did she?” He reached down a hand to yank Brina onto his mount. She wrapped her arms around his waist and shut her eyes.

  “Are you afraid of horses?”

  “Yes.”

  “If I dumped you here and went alone, no one could fault you.”

  “I’d follow. I’ve been told there are older horses, easier to control.”

  He sighed. “You can always change your mind.”

  “But I don’t want to.”

  He leaned forward, urging his horse toward the gate. “I refuse to fight beside you without knowing your magic. Know that now.”