The Black Knight Box Set

by Christian J Gilliland

  The darkness was spread out like a blanket over the rocky plains before him. He could see nothing clearly and squinted his eyes to make out something, anything in the distance but his efforts proved fruitless. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders as he thought about how shadow puppets would be his only entertainment for the night.

  He disappointedly sat back down on his chair and rested his long rifle against the dirt wall behind him, and then he heard it again. Immediately he stood up and focused on the noise. He heard the same whimper from before but he also heard something else, a cry for help.

  Rubaan found himself on the wall again. The sound was clearer; he could make out the sound of high-pitched screaming and pleading, not the whimpering of an animal as he had originally thought. Strangely the sound was not coming from the direction of the enemy trenches but from an obscure location off to the right of them.

  “Please!” he heard the voice shout, “Help!" Rubaan stroked the stubble on his face thoughtfully. He pressed his back up against the wall and nervously held the sides of his head with his hands. Something bad was happening nearby. He knew the trouble he would get in if he abandoned his post but he could not deny the principles that he believed he fought for. He could not leave someone who needed his help, that was not who he was.

  “Fuck it. I am coming," he whispered as he pulled his pistol from its holster and a long knife from its sheath. He had never killed a blood-sucker before. He knew that’s what it had to be, that his enemy would not risk leaving their trench in the dead of night. Whatever was going on, it was not a Govian induced problem.

  North Barus was a country that had long been plagued by the Thirst-crazed Vampre. Since the arrival of the Govian ships, the Vampre had become only the second greatest threat to the citizens of the rocky lands; they were, however, still nothing to be trifled with. Up to that point, Rubaan had not yet seen one of the thirst-stricken ones but he knew eventually he would get his chance. That night, he feared, was his chance.

  He was an honorable person who believed in the ideals of chivalry that his father had bestowed upon him, but despite all that, he knew and believed he did not want to meet his end that night. He knew he had to be careful.

  Slowly he climbed over the dirt wall that separated him from the dangers that awaited on the other side. He did his best not to make a noise out of fear that he would alert the Vampre or become discovered by an enemy sharpshooter. He stuck to the shadows and carefully crept in the direction of the whimpering. The porous rocks crunched beneath his feet and he cringed every time he made a noise. As he walked, the sounds he was pursuing started to become louder and closer; he knew he would soon be upon his target.

  Rubaan finally found his way to a ridge and slowed to a crawl. Below him was a fire so dim that he imagined the light being cast was merely from the coals. The fire reminded him how cold he was and by the time he got to the ridge all he wanted to do was kill the Thirst-stricken Vampre so that he could sit by the warm flames. As he reached the edge, he realized that he could hear voices below. He crawled in closer to listen.

  Below him, he could see four people. He saw two females and a male standing around another male’s body.

  “No way," Rubaan disappointedly said to himself as he realized what was going on, “He is the one making that noise?”

  For a moment, Rubaan wondered if all his chivalrous thoughts were really coming from a sense of honor or from his dick. He had not fantasized himself charging in gallantly to slay three Vampre for the sake of another male. With a sigh, Rubaan shook his head and resolved to continue with his mission. His conscience would not allow him to call himself an honorable person if he were to deny someone salvation based on whether they had a penis or not.

  Rubaan began scanning the area for a place where he could safely climb down and engage his enemy. As he was crawling to where he believed he could do so, he thought he heard a noise behind him. He hoped it was his imagination and thought for a moment about the crunch he heard. It was the same noise that had been made when he had walked on the porous rocks earlier and it was getting closer and closer. His eyes grew wide and he realized what was going on just as he felt hot breath on the back of his neck.

  “I have heard your heartbeat since you crawled out of that hole," her voice whispered seductively into his ear, “You are afraid; you have not stopped being afraid."

  Rubaan quickly rolled onto his back and thrust the knife where he believed the Vampre’s heart to be. To his dismay, he felt himself stab only air and when he tried to pull the knife back to strike again, he realized that she had clasped her hand around the blade.

  “You are brave," she observed, leaning her face into his, “But I wonder why you are so stupid. I am not going to kill you, please do not waste either of our time with that silly knife." She ripped it from his hand and looked down at it.

  Rubaan tried to crawl backward but he had nowhere to go. Behind him was a thirty-foot drop and before him was the Vampre. In his mind, his fate had been sealed. He had nothing to lose.

  “Fuck you!" he shouted as he darted forward and thrust his pistol under her chin. Without hesitation, he fired two shots and when she reeled back, he fired three more into her chest. For a moment she stood quietly and stared at the warrior beneath her.

  Rubaan could not see it but a look of complete and utter confusion had spread across her face. In her mind, she remembered the feeling of being shot from her days as a mortal, and how it was so different. She shook her head and looked down at Rubaan, completely unfazed by the bullets that had ripped through her.

  Almost immediately after the shots were fired the three Thirst-driven Vampre from the valley beneath were at the High Vampress’ side. Rubaan’s heart skipped a beat at tree sight. The thought of being drained of his blood by one Vampre was scary enough but being ripped apart by four Vampre completely terrified him to the point of immobilization. He heard the three new Vampre hissing at him and felt fresh blood spray like saliva from one of their mouths and onto his arm. He realized the person he had originally come to save was no longer screaming; he was about to die for nothing.

  The High Vampress, his original attacker, held out her hand as if to steady the crazed ones behind her. They were obedient like dogs and Rubaan realized that she must have been their leader. He swallowed a dry lump in his throat.

  “On with it," he shouted as he once again found the strength to raise his pistol, “Show me the respect of killing me quickly!”

  “We are but children!” one of the crazed Vampre hissed, “We cannot help but play with our food." The other two laughed maniacally but the mother Vampre stood in silence. The drastic contrast of her behavior compared to that of her brood was unnerving to Rubaan.

  He stared in her direction, hopeful to at least get a look at his demise. He could sense her beauty, it was an undeniable radiance that spread over him and almost made him comfortable, “Who are you?” he finally asked, “Who is going to kill me?”

  “You ask my name?” the mother Vampre asked, almost shocked, “Who would ask of my name?" Rubaan laid silently and answered his name as if he were compelled by some unknown force. He then asked of hers a second time.

  “My name is Amaria," the Vampre replied, “These are my children…”

  “May we eat him, mother?" one asked in a high cracked voice, “We are oh so hungry."

  “My foolish children I have grown weary of you," she replied with a sigh, looking back at him. At that, she thrust the knife that she confiscated from Rubaan into its heart. The Vampre fledgling shrieked with pain and surprise and burst in all directions as if its body could hold its blood no longer. The other two Vampre were shocked and did not have a chance to run as they just as quickly met the same fate as their sibling.

  Rubaan lay in the darkness covered in the blood and entrails of his attackers. He was scared and confused about what was to happen next. His heart thumped in his chest and he watched as Amaria approached him. As she neared, he felt compelled to lower his
weapon.

  “Do not fear me," she soothed, “I will not harm you."

  Rubaan was mystified by the feeling of comfort that the Vampress gave him. He did not know if he was under some kind of spell or if it was his body reacting to her beauty, but he felt drawn to her.

  “What do you want?" Rubaan slowly pushed himself up to his feet, “What is going on? Why am I still alive?"

  Amaria focused on Rubaan for a moment. Her smile was hidden by the darkness, “You came to be a hero?" she inquired, looking him up and down, “What drew you out here tonight?"

  Rubaan was silent for a moment. Despite everything that was going on he wanted to tell her the truth.

  “I did come…" Rubaan answered, his head lowered with embarrassment, “I wanted to save that person." He pointed down below the ridge. “I thought he was a woman, I… I did want to be a hero."

  At that, Amaria shot forward and took hold of Rubaan. Before he had time to react or realize what was going on, the two were standing in front of the dim fire in the valley below. Rubaan stepped backward out of confusion and disorientation, and Amaria tossed a handful of something into the fire, causing the flames to grow twice their size. The light from the flame illuminated her and gave him a brief view of her beauty.

  “Come," Amaria beckoned as she slowly walked around the fire. Rubaan hesitated but stepped forward and followed the Vampress. In the dim light, he was able to see her; he was able to make out her long platinum hair as the light reflected off of it. He looked into her red eyes as they glowed like the coals and saw her pale skin covered in the blood of her brood.

  “You are beautiful," Rubaan found himself admitting almost as if it came naturally. Amaria looked at him deeply, intently… longingly.

  “You came in search of the wrong person. You were destined to save someone tonight though." Her hand came up and stroked his cheek.

  “I long to feel the warmth of your skin," she moaned as her other hand met the opposite side of his face, “To feel your breath." She pressed her forehead up against his lips for a moment and then quivered as she locked eyes with him, “To taste your kiss..." She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

  Rubaan was shocked for a moment but quickly found his arms wrapping around her thin body like vines. What were only a few moments, in reality, felt like a lifetime to Rubaan. When their lips separated, he knew that what was happening was something he had never felt before. In an instant, Rubaan had fallen in love.

  “Yet I feel so little. Please, save me," she begged as she returned her gaze to his brown eyes. “I wish to be rid of this curse, of this life. I want to feel again, to be mortal again."

  “How?" Rubaan asked, reaching up to touch her cold cheek. “What must I do?”

  “Drain me."

  “Drain you?" he repeated, “What do you mean?”

  “Drain all my blood and then let me drink of you," she instructed him, “Let my body taste only mortal blood and then, make me feel whole." Amaria placed Rubaan’s knife back in his hand. She squeezed his fingers around the handle of the weapon and lifted the blade to her throat.

  “Cut. Let me drain and then let me drink of you."

  “You will die," Rubaan fretted, “I cannot kill you."

  She pressed the blade into her throat so that it cut into the skin. He watched a stream of glistening blood flow down her neck and disappear between her breasts, “Trust me," she reassured him, “You can save me."

  Rubaan closed his eyes and suddenly pushed the blade in. Her blood came out stronger, spraying him in the face and she fell to the ground and began writhing in pain. Immediately he fell down and offered his neck to her but she pushed him away.

  “No," she rasped, “Not yet."

  Rubaan watched. As she became weaker, her eyes became distant, and the pool of blood beneath her grew larger. Finally, she stopped moving and her body became limp. A frantic Rubaan sliced his wrist with the blade and held it to her mouth.

  For a moment, nothing happened. He squeezed his arm so that a stronger stream of blood came out and eventually her lips started to move. She reached up weakly and pulled his wrist closer to her mouth.

  Rubaan watched in amazement as her eyes started to open up; different than before. No longer were they glowing red but instead were slowly changing to blue. He watched as shades of red started to return to her cheeks and arms and when he felt like he was about to faint she stopped drinking.

  She took in a deep breath and reached her hand up to grab him. To Rubaan’s amazement, the wound on her neck had closed and warmth had returned to her skin.

  “What just happened?" he asked.

  “You saved me," she declared. Her fingers unlaced the strings that held her tunic closed and Rubaan watched as it opened up, revealing her breasts. As she wrapped her arms around him, he pressed his lips against hers and she pulled him down on top of her next to the fire. He never again returned to the trenches.

  Chapter Eight

  Alec II

  21st of Ramlia – 346AG

  12:00 – Black Knight Base 21

  “Captain Bran," Alec announced as he stepped into Century squad’s briefing room. The room itself was like most of Base 21’s other rooms, gray stone walls, and a white floor. Inside sat a circular stone table with twenty-one chairs around it, to the members of Century Squad it was a place of camaraderie, training, and of course briefing.

  “Lord Card informed me that I was to meet with you."

  Bran Phils sat at his spot at the table; a portion was cut away specifically to accommodate his size. He was a hulk of a being, a Gaian that stood eight feet tall with wide shoulders and arms as thick as tree trunks. His hair and eyebrows were thick and white as were most Gaian’s and his left eye was sealed shut as it had been plucked out by a Govian prison guard back when he was in an internment camp. A long scar from his forehead to his cheek was an ever-present reminder of the time he spent there.

  “Alec," Bran declared, looking up from a pile of paperwork he was in the middle of looking over. His voice was deep and gruff from smoking cigarettes his whole life. “Good to see you. The memorial went well; I know you and Crinnan were close. I hope the others can find meaning in his death, whatever it may be."

  “The memorial went well, yes,” Alec nodded in agreement, “I still cannot believe that he is gone. It will be tougher for some of us, but I will make it."

  “It is tough," Bran agreed, “It’s something you learn to live with though. This world ain’t the best place to be making long-lasting relationships in. Attachment is a… it is, unfortunately, a commodity none of us can truly afford."

  “I am beginning to understand that Captain," there was a brief contemplative silence and then Alec spoke again, “So about this mission?”

  “Yes," Bran stood from his chair and picked up a cigarette he had resting in an ashtray. He took a quick drag and then gave it a flick, “It’s pretty straightforward. I need you to take a squad of soldiers to Base 11 in Kamlot to retrieve the new recruits for Century,"

  “Yes. Lord Card told me I was to fetch Cris Jamiso and Jymantius, the Vampre.”

  “Correct,” Bran exhaled a plume of smoke and put his weight on the table in front of him, “Your buddy’s little brother."

  “So how will I get to Base 11?" Alec asked. Bran began to walk around the table to meet Alec.

  “Conventional means are out of the question," Bran informed him, “As we have lost a couple of birds to Marauders in the past couple of weeks. Last year we only lost two the entire year, they are more ambitious than usual, better outfitted. For this mission I am gonna have you travel by train."

  “Train?" Alec repeated, “Why train?”

  “My most recent intel tells me that the Marauders are uniting under some kinda nut job they’re calling their king. They’ve been shooting up and raiding all kinds of transports, been making all kinds of bold moves. The only thing they aren’t attacking as much are the trains."

  Alec nodded. The trains were the ea
siest way of transporting any type of cargo long distances without it being stolen or destroyed. While they were occasionally robbed, they were heavily armed and outfitted with mercenaries for protection. Not only that but the tracks were virtually indestructible as they were a relic left over from ancient times that had not been destroyed or lost their use.

  “So Cris," Alec looked at Bran. “Is he worth piss?”

  “From what I understand he’s a very capable soldier," Bran replied, “Young and green but formidable in a fight. Lady Milinka saw fit to spar with him a couple of months back before she… fell ill… and delivered a promising report."

  Bran paused for a moment and looked at Alec. “Not to change the subject but you did hear about Lady Milinka right?”

  “I have heard that she and Lord Card are betrothed. Card told me himself."

  “No, no," Bran shook his head, leaning in closer, “Story is she was killed in a skirmish about a month ago, around the time we lost Crinnan. Well, they laid her body in her family’s crypt-like they do with any nobility and maybe a week or two ago she walked right outta that crypt, alive as day, saying crazy things like she had escaped the Hells."

  “Escaped the Hells?" Alec repeated, “That does not make any sense."

  “No shit," Bran agreed, “She’s back to leading Millennium squad as if nothing ever happened and has taken command of Base 11 in her father’s absence. He had a heart attack when he saw her alive. The whole thing sounds crazy as fuck."

  “So do you want me to find out what really happened to Lady Milinka then?" Alec asked.

  “No," Bran replied waving his hand in the air, “Supreme Commander Xian already got the truth from her and cleared her for command. Apart from satisfying my own curiosity, I don’t see any reason to be diving into their business. I just can’t help but wonder what the Hells is going on over there."

  Alec nodded his head and thought about what Bran had just told him. He had never heard of anyone escaping the Hells. There were of course rumors that there was a way and some scholars even spent a good amount of their lives trying to figure it out but none of that was of any interest to Alec. He was Humaan after all and had no expectation of any kind of life after death.