“You make me so proud, love,” I say with what I hope is a warm smile.
I turn to the vampires that are arrayed before us, they are not arranged in any kind of order. I divide the group into roughly two halves, and pick out two leaders for them.
“Everyone in the left group, you will be under the command of Zinne, everyone in the right, Sczeran will command you. Now Zinne, Sczeran, a word.”
Though I do not necessarily trust Sczeran, he is the most powerful vampire here. If I did not make him the leader of one of the groups he’d just kill his way to the top, and then probably take the group to do whatever he wanted.
We lead the two vampires away from the crowd, so that Summer and I can outline our plans.
“Why have we been split?” Sczeran asks before we have even stopped to talk properly. There is a long pause while I wait for him to finish his sentence; soon enough he realises, adding “my Lord and Lady?”
“Because, if you’d have some damn patience you’d know that you’re to head up to Scathack. I want you, Sczeran, to go via Enlil; cause some chaos there and draw as much Calcian attention as you can. Then, and only then, are you to head across the Gatheck Range to take Scathack. There you will set up the beginnings of my new Vampiric Empire. The reason for the split is to force Calcian forces to split also. They’ll split into more than two groups however, weakening their defence. Do you understand?”
I pose my last question as if talking to an infant. Sczeran does not answer, though both vampires nod. I cannot help but notice that Sczeran does not look happy, and I cannot help but feel endeared by that.
“Now, go, you only have about an hour until dawn, and I don’t want my little soldiers to get sunburn.”
With that, both the vampires nod once again and turn to their respective groups, walking towards them to redistribute the orders.
Summer smiles and slips her hand into mine.
- Zinne -
I can’t help but smile as I return to my group of vampires.
This is fantastic! He does not know the power he holds over us. I just can’t believe he never gave me an order! Not that I’m stupid enough to disobey him; I certainly don’t want a Lys-Karalis as an enemy. But still, this gives me license to do as I please. Though I’ll bet that Sczeran is pretty pissed off; I still can’t believe that he was the only one to get orders from the Lys-Karalis; binding him to do Muzbeth’s bidding.
Fuck Enlil, that sounds a little too dangerous for my liking; I think I’ll take my charges up to Nuima, then further north to the coast, follow that around until we’ve just got to drop south a bit into Scathack. That’ll be far easier than going through the mountains.
Oh, the fun I could have with twenty five vampires at my disposal.
I reach the vampires whom I am to command; the majority are men, though most of the newly turned are female. I think it is time to address my troops.
“Vampires, I call to you. I am Zinne, many of you know this already, but for those of you that have recently joined our calling, welcome. I will be commanding you. I realise that some of you have never fed before, and that you are hungry. We will find a village on our travels north and we will school you in the way of the vampire. But now, we move. Follow the North Point; it will guide us to our destination.”
And with that my group begins to head north, with surprisingly little disgruntlement. When we’re out of sight we’ll veer off west a little, bringing us into line with Nuima. We’ll have fun there, but first things first; we need to find food and shelter. We’ve only got an hour before the death of us all will rise once more.
- Muzbeth -
Summer and I turn and walk away, hand in hand, long before Sczeran and his men have left for Enlil. Zinne left practically straight away, evidently wanting to get underway as soon as possible.
We are heading toward that beacon that calls to me so; the Lighthouse. There we will strike a severe blow against the Calcians, allowing us one step closer to our real Godhood.
One day the woman I love and I will rule over all of Gatheck together, but before we can do that we have several fairly large obstacles to overcome. The first being the Calcians, the second being the forging of an empire and a basis of worship, and the third being the gods themselves. In order to set ourselves up as gods we’ll need to get rid of them. And for some reason I have a little feeling that suggests that that could be quite difficult. Quite difficult, indeed.
The Thirteenth Chapter
- Satch -
18 days until the birth of a god
The 15th day of Spring-Fall, 1538
“Look, there on the horizon. Just left and down a bit from the Light.”
“Fucking hell, Satch, that’s a lot of smoke. You don’t think…”
“I’ve a pretty good idea; remember what he did to that village where we found Thack.”
At the mention of his name we both fall silent. We continue walking. Memories of our lives flash through my mind; as the middle child I don’t remember our mother too well, but I remember growing up with Meth and Thack. My two brothers always looked out for me, as I did for them. Our father was never the same after mother died, or so Meth says.
We all used to get on in those days. But then one day Thack and I started to believe in the Pagan gods, though Meth never did. He, having seen our mother’s death, always believed and followed Calcia. Thack and I didn’t, and often refused to. I came around to Meth’s way of thinking when the Church offered to take me in and train me as a priest. They offered me a real job; one where I could help people. How foolish of me.
I look to my left at Meth, and his now unkempt and unclean beard. His once pristine robes are now torn and filthy, covered in mud up to the knees.
“We’re getting closer Meth, we’ll have him soon,” I tell him, hoping to soothe him a little.
All he does is nod at me and continue walking. His face is set with passion and concentration. He wants this more than anything in the world. He wants revenge.
Obviously now is not the time to mention my return to the Pagan gods.
- Holste -
“It is not that I think you are any worse than the others, know that much. You are the twenty men that received the lowest marks from me, do not worry though, they were still all very high. I will not explain why you had lower marks than the others; you will have to consider that for yourselves. But you should also use it to fuel your reason for survival. You will need it; there will be sixty men in that arena all desperate for survival, which is why I have brought you here to train. In the battle you will form into three teams of five; the fifteen of you that do have to fight. Use the things you have learned, be inventive, and show no fear. Do what you feel you must. There will be no reproach for any that die in the arena, kill as if your life depended on it; for as you well know, in there it is kill or be killed.”
I look hard at the men assembled before me. I still find it hard to believe they’re going to have to kill other Calcians. I still find it crazy that I’ll be fighting there too, though when I asked Calcia about it she gave a perfectly reasonable answer; “Do not ask your men to do something you are not willing to do yourself”. And then she said that she too would be involved in the combat. That had shocked me more than anything.
The men stood in front of me, all at attention, do not move a muscle. They are still waiting to be dismissed, but I’m not done with them yet.
“Once you have formed your team, make sure you cast some hefty defences, committing at least three to the casting and one to continue feeding power into it. Don’t use flood offensive spells; a focused casting will be more effective at breaching enemy defences. If you see a priest casting constantly within a shield, I would suggest trying to eliminate him. But make sure that you protect your own shields while you do. A good way to do this is to create a wall casting in front of the main shield; this will stop any heavily focussed attacks hitting the main shield by causing them to fracture and dissipate on contact with the wall. If and when
your shield does fail, you will know that you should commit another member to maintaining a new one. Any attacks should be as fast as lightning strikes; quickly out of the shield, cast, and quickly back in. Try to randomise time differences between attacks. Do anything you can to keep them on their toes. Any questions?”
A hand shoots up. It belongs to a young man by the name of Redlin. I motion for him to speak.
“Sir, why not just commit all priests to defence? A fifteen strong shield would be impenetrable.”
“That is true, but it would fail in the long run. You are in there to prove that you can cut it as a Raven Legionnaire; hiding under cover and not attempting to attack would be classed as a failure and would result in your removal from the arena.”
“Removal, sir?” he asks.
“Violent removal. There shall be one person who could break even a seemingly impenetrable shield. Legion will oversee the arena from within. Any more questions, no. Good. Begin the aforementioned training regime at once, and report to the mess hall in an hour. Formation, fall out!”
Redlin’s question worries me. I know now for a fact that he will end up in the arena, he fears too much. And I fear more that he will not come out. Meaning that the rest of the squad he ends up in will suffer the same consequences also. Still, Penk and I will be able to lend our aide, much to Penk’s disappointment.
- Muzbeth -
We head east as fast as we can. We both walk by day, and by night I carry Summer, moving as smoothly as I can in an attempt to not wake the sleeping beauty in my arms.
We can’t be more than one day from our destination, provided we keep travelling constantly. I’ve not killed anything lately, and I can feel the effects beginning to tell on my body; my limbs are stiffer, my speed is reduced slightly, and my physical appeal is reduced. I’m beginning to resemble the dead again. I probably look like I’ve been dead for a day or so, and that’ll get steadily worse until I feed again.
I’d like to feed before we arrive at the home of the vampire race’s greatest enemy, but I’m not sure if I’ll find anything this close. If I’d have been thinking straight, and not about Summer, I’d have eaten in Tomam and none of this would be a problem.
In the distance I can see the source of the light overhead; the Lighthouse in which the prized relic of the Calcians sits. It is at the Lighthouse that I will find the High Calcian Priest, or so Summer says. To dine upon him would be divine, and it would serve well to disrupt the Calcian order. But to turn him, to set him to our cause, that would be perfect. He’d be a vampire that knows everything of the Calcian faith.
Admittedly all vampires know quite a lot. The demons within us see to that. They used to be angels, after all. I wonder if they regret following Samael? It was that act that got them all cast out of Heaven. It was following Samael that meant they had to have their souls ripped from them. It is because they thought they were above their posting that they got thrown to the pits of Abadon.
In my eyes, Calcia was in the wrong, but that may just be the demon within. Calcia sent her own creations to Hell for doing something that they believed in. Samael thought he could do a better job of running the world, and, if Calcia hadn’t cast him down, it would have been better. There would be no demons, and the angels would still have their souls and free will. But she did what she wanted and helped us vampires into existence.
How the gods are fickle and foolish. Summer and I shall not be so foolhardy.
By killing and turning the High Priest of the Lighthouse I’ll gain much reverence from who should be my equals; the other Lys-Karalis.
- Satch -
The thick black smoke has cleared mostly, and now only lingering patches remain, holding out against the rain that pours down from the heavens to rescue the forest around what was once Tomam. Meth and I had passed through here on our pilgrimage to The Dirigir Oak, and the city had been beautiful; it was seamlessly integrated with the forest, living in harmony with the trees and the animals therein.
Now Tomam is naught but grey ash, black soot, and charred wood. The trees within the city itself had succumbed to the raging fire that must have been, leaving black jagged stumps protruding from the ground. The trunks of the trees on the periphery of the city sized clearing are even scorched black by flame.
I come to a stop on the outskirts of the city’s core; the flames still burn there. Though the rain keeps it from spreading, it has not yet completely doused the inferno. I try to muster the words to talk to Meth but they just will not come.
This place was teeming with life when we passed through it, but now it is barren and dead; even the magic of the ground beneath its foundations has been stripped, taken by some unnatural force. Beside me Meth walks forward a few paces and drops down to his haunches. There is only one person, one thing, that could have caused this; Calcia. She will never again receive my worship. She stopped me from saving Thack, and in doing so let the master vampire escape. And he is one of her creations.
“Satch.”
“What?”
I ask, looking down on Meth, he turns his head to look at me over his shoulder. The memory of us at The Dirigir Oak flashes in my mind. That was a time when we still had a younger brother, when we were happy. It was a time when I was an oblivious Calcian.
“What?” he asks.
“What do you want?” I ask in return, now frowning.
“Nothing. What do you want?” He asks, confusion marring his face.
“You said my name, which usually means you want something.” That said, Meth jumps to his feet, scanning the burned and broken city around us.
“Who’s out there? Show yourself!” he shouts.
There is no answer. But I can see a figure out in the darkness, standing, waiting for me. My eyes didn’t have to look, it was more like wherever I’d have looked, the figure would have been there.
“Stay here Meth, I’ve some business to attend to,” I say absently.
“What? I’m not going to leave you alone,” he says, stepping closer to me.
“Meth, you will stay here,” I tell him, more forceful than I’ve ever been with him. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Fine, but if you get yourself killed and I’m not there to back you up, who’s going to feel guilty? Who Satch?”
I turn from my older brother and head off to the scorched tree line, heading for the figure.
“Me! That’s who!” Meth shouts after me.
I keep my pace up, and the figure comes into focus. I pick out the details I knew would be there; voluminous black cowl, face hidden in deep shadow, hand clasping a dark scythe. The ones I used to follow wish to speak to me, and the Harvest King has come with whatever message they collectively send.
***
“Meth!”
I shout as I stride out from the trees, towards the burned city. He turns and faces me, displeased that I’d left him, no matter how briefly.
“Back are we?”
“Look, we’ve no reason to stay here, and the way I see it, from his direction he can only be heading for one place.”
“The Lighthouse. Yeah, that’s what I’d figured, too. There’s a small farm just north east of here, we can get horses there,” Meth says.
“So what are we waiting for? That’s our best chance of beating him.” I say, beginning to head back to where we’d left our packs.
“So you’re not going to tell me what your little journey into the woods was about?” Meth asks, keeping up with me.
“Nope,” I say as I glance back at my brother. Meth’s face is dark and unhappy, even under the dirt and soot.
“Fine, but don’t blame me when you die and Calcia sends you to Hell,” he says.
Oh, the irony.
- Holste -
We are beneath the Lighthouse in an area I have never visited before. All sixty-nine of us are arrayed down here in the massive arena, which is a giant dome cut out of the rock that hosts the catacombs.
Legion stands at the very centre of the dome,
with me and Penk, and the other leaders and their seconds - Quixin and Shrike, Oryon and Trife, and Tyllard and Caribb – all facing him in an eight person circle. Now I think about it, we’re stood in the formation of a Sircless, each person forming one of the points that create the centre; in which Legion is stood. I suppose it makes sense, he is Calcia… She is Calcia… I don’t know.
Legion has changed since last time I saw him, now he dons fearful black armour, completely covering him from head to foot, his face hidden behind a glassy red visor, that single red eye invisible behind its mirrored front. He carries no weapons, but the armour would probably work better than any weapon. The gothic design of it incorporates sharp spikes, and coupled with the weight of the armour, would produce an effect similar to that of a spiked mace to the head..
So far all that has happened is that we have entered, with Legion standing where his is now, and deployed our men in their groups of five. Now we are just waiting for a sign from Legion.
We stand for a few more moments, just glaring at the other leaders arranged in the Sircless formation, Oryon seems to have some grievance with me, staring hard and unblinkingly. He’ll be the first to go, if I get the chance.
Suddenly Legion leaps high into the air. I feel the powerful magic that aids the jump. At the same time I crouch down, getting the drop on the others. I cast as Legion does, indicating the start of the battle. Now it is every man for himself.
Purple spears rain down from above, aimed for the sixty men arrayed about us, behind Oryon I see them raise their shields, two men are too slow though, and one man’s shield fails, his casting unable to stand up to the power of Legion.
The Vampire's Heart Page 16