The Raike Box Set

by Jackson Lear

  “That won’t matter to you,” said the ghost.

  The door to the rooftop swung open. A maid wrapped in dull gray and tattered robes clenched her arms in against her chest, fighting the cold. She called out to the bear. He grunted in return. She repeated her instructions. The bear dropped his shoulders in annoyance. Muttered to the cubs. They walked over, waving for me to come them.

  I turned back to the pale imitation of my father. “Why won’t it matter to me?”

  “Because time is running out for one of you. The Lord of Fellgarden is still deciding on which one he’s going to turn. Don’t let it be her.”

  I was dragged back to the doorway, my stomach tightening as the vampire grinned with a quick lick his lips.

  Chapter Nine

  Down from the roof to the helix staircase, around a left-hand corner, along a corridor, shoved in my back until the guy ahead thumped my chest, urging me to stop. The mask was yanked from my head. The cub knocked twice against the heavy oak door with the back of his fist.

  Alysia’s muffled voice drifted out. “Who is it?”

  The cub glared at me. Nodded to the door.

  “It’s Raike. There are two of Draegor’s guards out here.”

  The cub squinted, hearing his king’s name and wondering why Alysia hadn’t open the door yet. The cub to my rear nudged me. Muttered something.

  I turned. “Fuck. Off.” And to the one who led me here: “You too.”

  Deep breaths. Glances to each other. Then a general, ‘yeah, fuck this,’ decision as they pulled back to safety.

  I tapped on the door. “It’s as clear as it’s ever going to be.”

  The door peeled open, revealing a mountain of fur with a single white face poking out from a hood. Somehow Alysia looked shorter than I remembered. Perhaps the weight of her northern clothing had caused her to shrink. She allowed me in. Closed the door.

  Her room was pint-sized as well. Short and narrow with a single arrow-slit window. No fire place. A basic lamp nearby. The bed held its place along one wall, covered in a moose skin with the legs hanging off the side. Bare stone floor. Bare stone walls. High ceiling for the northern longbows to move about unencumbered.

  Like all other doorways I had seen in the castle this one offered a half-inch drop from the corridor into the room to keep the draft at bay. The door butting up against the corridor floor made it more difficult than usual to slip any kind of blade or note underneath.

  “How are you?” I asked.

  She waved her hands out to the thick, stone walls closing around her. “It’s hard to figure out if I’m a prisoner or an unwelcomed guest. At least the wine is strong.”

  “Any water?”

  “I haven’t been offered any. They returned a few things to me and I got them to promise to feed you all like guests. I don’t know how much of a noble delicacy it will be but it will be something.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  Alysia smiled apologetically to me. “You were right. We should’ve tried this months ago.”

  “It doesn’t mean anything would’ve changed. You were right to trust Zara in vetting Mikael. Torunn looks sufficiently scared out of his mind so I don’t think it was either of them who betrayed us.”

  “What happened to your face?”

  “A couple of fists.”

  She braced herself for the worst. “And the people who hit you?”

  “Still alive. Hopefully feeling worse than I am now.”

  “How badly did they hit you?”

  “I won’t lie, it’s starting to hurt like hell but the cold air is helping to keep the swelling down. How did your meeting with Draegor go?”

  She rolled her eyes at the memory. “He has a temper even in private. There were seven of them with just me and Mikael until they dragged Mikael away. I guess that was some kind of power move. Do you know where he is?”

  “No. I’m guessing they’ve started to separate people to spook them. You know it’s not too late to break you out of here.”

  She waved her hands around the thick walls and narrow slit of a window. “You really think you can?”

  “Right now this door is unlocked and there are only two guys guarding the corridor.”

  “Are they armed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you?”

  “No.”

  “But you still think you could do it?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  “And the others?”

  “We’ll rescue them.”

  “And getting to a ship?”

  “The one we took is still in the harbor.”

  She sighed, shaking her head. “I need to keep trying. This alliance is going to kill a lot of our people. If I can’t end it then I at least need to learn more about it, find out where the vampires are positioned and who opposes them. If we get enough of the northerners to flee, re-group, then arm them with weapons and supplies, maybe they can take on Draegor next year before the twenty vampires turn into a hundred.”

  “All right. I will hold off your rescue until needs be, but if I see something worthwhile I’m going to react regardless of who is barking an order at me, including you. The last time you were taken against your will, things did not go well for either of us.”

  “I understand.”

  “Good.” I couldn’t help but shiver.

  “A ghost walked over your grave?”

  “No, just cold. I’m fine until I stop moving then I’m almost constantly shivering.”

  Alysia slipped off her cloak and handed it over. “Here.”

  “It’s yours.”

  “And I’ll get another one.”

  “Not if you’re a prisoner or an unwelcomed guest. There’s no fire in here.”

  “How long will yours keep going for?”

  “Long enough. I also have thirty one soldiers bunched together and body heat does tend to warm a room.”

  “Zara’s a soldier.”

  “Thirty two, then.”

  Reluctantly, Alysia returned her cloak to her shoulders, drifted towards the window, and stared out at the bleak view of the seaweed city. “Tell me I’m doing the right thing here.”

  “I don’t have that hindsight yet.”

  “What’s your gut telling you?”

  “That Draegor is looking for glory by any means possible. That’s likely to be either more money than we can give him or a victory against the empire. He might settle at forcing you to be his wife.”

  “I’m already married.”

  “Which isn’t much of a compelling argument up here. It just means that you’re already good wife material.”

  She pulled a face, either regurgitating her rotting fish dinner or imagining the ill-tempered asshole trying to kiss her. “I don’t suppose they ever forcibly take husbands up here, do they?”

  “No idea. It’s my first time in Vasslehün.”

  She sighed. Shivered like it surprised her that she was still cold. “I’ve never met a vampire before.”

  “How was it?”

  “They smell.”

  “Yeah. It gets worse the older they are. Their skin starts to break and can’t quite heal as well as it used to. Agrat told me it’s because they eventually drink enough rotten blood that it keeps them in a permanently-poisoned state. It’s one of the saving graces that keeps their numbers in check.”

  She blinked. A shimmer of water formed across her eyes. “I need you to promise me something …”

  “To kill you if you’re bitten by a vampire?”

  She pulled back, somewhat affronted at such a question. “I was hoping you would be nicer about it.”

  “No problem. I’ll cut your head off and burn your body.”

  “Wow, so just like that?”

  “What are you looking for, an impassioned recital of your virtues with a heartfelt kiss at the end like I’m some kind of rhyming actor? I don’t have the time for that up here. If you turn into one of them, I’ll kill you.”

  “You
promise?”

  For not the first time in my life, I lied to her without breaking eye contact. “I promise.”

  “Thank you.” She reached into her bag and dug out a cylindrical leather case the length of my forearm. “For you.”

  “To give to …?”

  “Your future self, whenever you see fit. It has more value than the gold we gave away today and I was holding onto it until we returned to Anglaterra, but after today ...”

  I popped the cap to the leather case and shook two scrolls free, one wrapped around the other. The outermost one was sealed with wax and adorned with the Kasera bear rearing backward. “Oh, come on.”

  “I’m serious, Raike. Instead of coming back to Erast when you had the chance, you chose to stay with the Fourth Cohort and train them to fight vampires.”

  “I didn’t choose that.”

  She waved her hand in the air, dismissing me entirely. “Semantics.”

  The word was lost on me.

  “How long does it take to train people to fight a vampire?”

  “Months.”

  She threw eye-rolling into the mix. “Right, well, it’s been months. It’s time for you to come back to Erast.”

  “I can’t.”

  “People have stopped looking for you there.”

  “I disagree.”

  “And you know this from your extensive research in the city you have avoided for a whole year?”

  “I hear things.”

  “From …?”

  “Merchants who travel between Anglaterra and Erast.”

  More eye rolling. “You’re afraid. And – remarkably – you seem to prefer being surrounded by soldiers who could be ordered by the governor to kill you on sight than to return home and have a real bed, a real meal, and – I don’t know – have a bath?”

  I sniffed.

  “I don’t mean you smell, it’s just however you choose to relax.” She knotted her eyebrows together. “How do you relax?”

  “I plan heists and imagine spending the ridiculous fortune that would come my way.”

  “Fine, be like that.” It took her a moment to reconsider what I had said. “Wait, really?”

  “I come from a thieving mercenary background. Of course I do that. Best of all, I can do it while walking, drinking, screwing, you name it.”

  “You think of heists while with a woman?”

  “There’s more to breaking into buildings than simply busting down the door, especially when there are bored, disgruntled guards stationed there who can be persuaded to take the night off to be with someone who will blow their mind. Anyway, I’m getting the sense that this isn’t really the direction you expected this conversation to go.”

  She tapped the pair of scrolls in my possession. “Those two ‘brats’ you’ve been avoiding for as long as possible have been learning to write. Día wrote you a letter. Kel drew you a picture.”

  “I have not been avoiding them.”

  “Oh, when was the last time you saw them?”

  “A year ago.”

  “And you’ve been employed by the Kaseras for four months already. It’s time for you to face your past.”

  I handed the scrolls back to her. “Maybe some other time.”

  “Brayen?”

  “No.”

  “Brayen?”

  “Not that name. Not after today.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Fine. Raike? You’re not getting out of this one. You’re a good guy.”

  “I really have to argue against that.”

  “You’re not a saint but you’re still a good guy. Día wrote you a letter. She deserves it to be read.”

  I turned the scroll over in my hands, probably with the same dumb look as when someone first handed me a bottle of gin. I understood the concept but just what the hell was I expected to do with this? I popped the seal expecting an avalanche of words and adoration spill from the girl I had only met once. Unfortunately Alysia had set us both up for nothing but disappointment.

  Then, something within me caved, a twinge of regret I hadn’t been expecting. The first sheet of paper was Kel’s drawing. A girl stared back at me, smiling with one eyebrow raised like she had been recently laughing. Full lips. Freckles. A few strands of hair framed her face with the rest pulled behind.

  It honestly did stop time.

  “Kel did this?”

  Alysia nodded, sending a peculiar warmth my way. “He draws for three hours a day after all of his chores. Even Grandfather has sat for him. What do you think?”

  “Kasera Senior?”

  “Yeah.”

  I stared back at the picture, drawn in by the detail of the girl’s eyes. I said nothing. Instead, I unfurled the next scroll. I had seen a smattering of writing styles in my day but even I could tell that this was not done by a confident hand. Día’s penmanship was slow and deliberate. Her spacing wasn’t perfect and the size of the letters fluctuated within each word. There were three paragraphs with her name down at the bottom. Until then it hadn’t occurred to me that I didn’t even know how to spell Día’s name.

  “What does it say?”

  She furrowed her eyebrow at me. “I thought you’d been learning to read at the fort.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  Alysia slumped to one side.

  I held the scroll back to her. “What does it say?”

  “That’s not how this is going to work. You want to read it? You’ll have to learn.”

  “Or I could just ask someone else.”

  “You could but this is Día’s first time at writing you a letter. Don’t you think you owe her the courtesy of reading it yourself?”

  “What about the courtesy of knowing what she said?”

  Alysia leaned over me, pointing to the start of the letter. “The first few words are: ‘Dear Raike, I just wanted to say …’ and that’s all the help you’re going to get.”

  A double thump from the door broke our conversation. I tucked the scrolls into my clothes. “I’m pretty sure that means I have to go.”

  Alysia wrapped her arms around me and squeezed tightly. “Be safe.”

  “You too.”

  The door swung open. Alysia dropped her arms quickly. Two of Draegor’s mercenaries stood in the doorway, beckoning me forward.

  Alysia called out. “Tell the others I’m trying to get us all out as soon as I can.”

  “Will do.”

  As soon as the door was closed and locked a hood slapped itself over my face. A fist came straight at my jaw, connecting. Another to my gut. My kick was intercepted, my leg grabbed by a pair of hands that were ready for it. I was lifted into the air and carried, squirming, back upstairs.

  Chapter Ten

  There came the unmistakable snick of blade and leather, quiet to some but spine-tingling to anyone who does this for a living. The hood was yanked from my face. A foul-breathed mercenary stared back at me from a safe distance, seething with quiet anger, his hands resting on his long sword. We were not alone.

  Six of the vanguard were up on the roof of the castle as well. All on their knees with gags in their mouths. All with rope or restraints locking their wrists behind their backs. Mikael was off to one side. Knees. Rope. But separated from the others for reasons unknown. Zara as well. They had thrown a noose around her neck and were pulling tight. Swords drawn and pointing at her throat and sides. She was trying not to squirm but the tips of their weapons prodded her ribcage.

  Rounding out our numbers were two noblemen of spotted-face age, one female mercenary leader with a blue sapphire eye, and five mercenaries of high enough rank to make qualified decisions and not just follow orders. No vampire which was half a relief, half a quiet discomfort.

  I looked to Zara. “Has anyone been hurt?”

  “A little. Nothing serious.”

  One of the northerners nudged me in the back with his sword.

  “Ready?” I asked Zara.

  “Whenever you are
.”

  One of the nobles stepped forward. Male. Practically twenty years old and with a voice that still cracked. Nerves reverberated through his body like it was the first time he was giving out threats to people who didn’t have to bow to his every whim. “Stop or I’ll have you thrown off the roof like you all deserve to be.”

  I sent him a glare. “Next time keep the threat shorter. Too many words makes you sound uncertain. Zara?”

  “Still ready.”

  “You can’t take us all on,” said the human twig. “Your best fighters are on their knees with weapons at their backs. You can’t win.”

  I sized up the young man dressed up in his daddy’s fine clothes. “‘We’ might not but I can. And certainly against you. How about it? One on one. You and me. Right now. Loser goes off the side of the castle. The winner gets to leave Brilskeep with thirty four people of his choice. You have to the count of three to say ‘no’ before I make a move. One. Two.”

  “Stop,” said the squat woman by the twig’s side. Crinkles around her eyes. White showing through her mostly dark hair which itself was tied in a thick braid. One dull blue eye followed me, the other a sapphire pearl which didn’t move at all.

  The twig drew his sword. “One on one? Me armed and you not?”

  “You can fight with two swords if you think it makes your dick look bigger.”

  “And no magic?”

  “I’m saving that for someone who has killed a guy before.”

  The blue-eyed woman whispered to the twig. “I need to speak with him.”

  The twig’s voice trembled. “I do not take orders from you.”

  The blue-eyed woman sighed. Looked to me. “Don’t kill him.”

  “We’ll see,” I said. I raised my fists like a bare-knuckle fighter. Stepped forward.

  The twig smirked. Closed the distance. Swiped his sword through the air in something of a fancy flourish.

  I kicked his sword to the side. Drove my elbow into his chest. Locked his forearm. Pinned my leg behind his. Twisted. Pushed him over. Snapped his wrist. Took his sword.

  The mercenary holding Zara by the neck pressed the tip of his blade into her ribs.

  “Ah! No! One on one.”

  The blue-eyed woman spoke up, commanding him to stop. We remained at an impasse for a moment, me now armed with no vampire in sight and surrounded by a few allies.