The Orb of Wrath (The Merchant's Destiny Book 1)

by Nic Weissman

  Life was quiet in the city of Bergen. Although it was a very large city, everything moved slowly there. Things were different in the cities of the coast, with all the activity of the ports, trade and transport. Ronu liked the hustle and had decided long ago that one day, she would move to a city on the coast. She loved living in her country, one of the most prosperous in the world of Oris, especially because of the export of handicrafts and fine woods, and partly because of commercial activities. Tylar's fleet controlled part of the trade by sea on the south coast since before the Great Alliance. But their city, primarily dedicated to logging and jewelry, was too quiet for her.

  She was young and had time. She had just turned nineteen. Several of her friends were already married and one was even expecting her first child. But she was in no hurry. Unless the right guy came along, of course. He would have to be from the coast. She loved the sea. She always remembered the magical moment when she saw the sea for the first time, when she was ten. Since then, every year she had sought a way to convince her mother to spend part of the summer vacation somewhere offshore. Usually, it was only for a couple of weeks. But Ronu looked forward to those weeks all year long.

  “Until next time, Ronu,” a lady greeted from across the street.

  “Goodbye,” Ronu said, gesturing with her hand.

  It was Mrs. Mephinosa, a friend of her mother; a little nosy but harmless. She used to go occasionally to drink tea with her mom. They always chatted for a long time. She tried to find some work to do to be away from home on those evenings. So the interrogation was avoided. "And when are you getting married, my child? Have you finished preparing your outfit? Where do you go Tuesday afternoon? I always see you walking past the Central Square."

  She had arrived at the seamstress. She was a very old and very hardworking lady. She liked working women. But the lady was too old. One should have the right to rest upon reaching a certain age. She decided to rush to finish her task. This way, she'd have time to stroll along the avenue of the Poplars before returning home.

  *******

  Nightfall had just arrived and Vuthral was thirsty. He had long been the master of the night, in much of the island of Megara. From his lair, a castle located in a remote region in the hills south of the island, he could choose each week a different place to go feed.

  When he decided to settle in the kingdom of Tylar, more than two centuries ago, he wasn't too sure he had made the right choice. At that time he was fleeing from the persecutions against his race, increasingly effective in the Duchies Carition. Tylar seemed to be far away; perhaps a more naive kingdom, with less experienced in hunting vampires. Now he knew, after the time that had passed, that he had made a good decision.

  It took a while for him to find the ideal location. It's not so easy to locate a place that's far enough away on an island. Nor was it adapting the little old mansion he bought shortly after arriving, and to turn it into a residence worthy of his kind. It took nearly forty years to achieve; something that allowed him to stop longing for his ancient castle in the Duchies. But once he did, he didn't look back.

  The castle also had all the amenities he could require for himself and his offspring. It was hard to find, it was difficult to access and, once inside, it had various types of defenses, which allowed the vampire to have a very high degree of security. Vuthral had worked a long time to achieve it.

  There he could have all the slaves he wanted; eat with impunity, with a very low risk level. In the villages they hadn't even imagined that a vampire lived on the island. They blamed the disappearances of maids and servants on criminals or spells. At some point, the suspicions began in Bergen, one of the main cities. Since then, he had minimized the number of occasions that he "hunted" there. And when he did, it was usually somewhere on the periphery of the villages nearby, where the people were ignorant and superstitious.

  The power of a vampire increases with time, as it consumes more and more human blood. Absorbing the life energy of human beings makes him more and more powerful. A vampire can feed and survive on the blood of animals, as well. But all he would do is to survive. Vuthral used a lot the resource of the animals in his castle. Most of his slaves fed on animal blood. This allowed him to maintain more control over them, preventing them to become more powerful. Moreover, his servants could buy animals at fairs without arousing suspicion, to then sacrifice them in the safety of his castle. This was also part of the security system, which had already greatly reduced the number of human "disappearances", and had thus allowed him to increase and enhance his power in total anonymity. Despite being a thousand years old, his power had increased more in the last two centuries he had spent in Tylar, than in the previous eight.

  Vuthral wanted to do something different tonight. He had not incorporated a slave to his harem in a while, and he wanted a girl who was distinguished, attractive and strong, but sweet at the same time. He had been watching several candidates and finally had decided. But before hunting he needed to feed. He became a large bat and flew from the highest tower of the castle heading north.

  After flying for an hour he spotted a small farm that was somewhat isolated from the nearest center. He came down and landed on a nearby tree to watch. The farm seemed to be inhabited by a family of three: a couple in their forties and a young boy of about fifteen. The farmers were busy preparing the farm for the night. The woman was checking the animals in the next shed, the farmer was picking farm implements and the boy had gone back into the house.

  The vampire decided to seize the moment and quickly went to the animal shed. The woman was giving hay to the horses and was surprised to see him. Before the woman could react in any way, the powerful Vuthral looked into her eyes and began to subdue her. After a few moments the will of the farmer had been annulled. She was at the mercy of the vampire's control. She must obey. She had to obey.

  Vuthral told the woman to follow him and walked out of the shed into the countryside where he had seen the farmer. He was only a few hundred yards from the shed in front of the family home, but he couldn't see the man when he got there. So he went into the house. Fortunately for Vuthral, the front door was still open. A vampire has many powers but also some limitations. One is that he can't enter a house that is closed, unless he is invited by one of its inhabitants.

  After crossing the threshold of the door, he entered a good sized room that served as a lounge and dining area. Undoubtedly, the main room of the house. The young boy was in a corner of the room, stacking logs in the fireplace, probably preparing a fire to heat the home during the night. Vuthral again used his powers and with his domineering gaze controlled the young boy and forced him to wait in a chair next to the fireplace.

  Before the vampire could continue his hunt, he felt a strong blow to the back of his head. Someone had hit him. He turned and saw the farmer wielding a shovel. The farmer, surprised to not to have caused any damage to his dangerous visitor, raised his shovel to strike again. With his superhuman strength, Vuthral pushed the farmer, who was thrown against the wall of the room, leaving him dazed and vulnerable.

  The vampire could have used the opportunity to use his dominant gaze, but decided that this impertinent man deserved a cruel fate. He picked up a rope he had seen at the end of the room and tied the farmer to a chair in the living room. Then he ordered the woman to enter the room and sit in a chair next to her son. He closed the door of the house and headed to the kitchen. There he found a jar of pepper in a cabinet where spices were kept. He returned to the living room and placed the palm of his hand under the nose of the farmer with a handful of pepper in it. The farmer sneezed after breathing a bit of it and regained consciousness. He was bound and helpless with his family before him. He could not understand why his wife and son didn't answer him, and why they didn't do anything.

  “What's your name?” Vuthral asked, with his beyond the grave voice.

  “Urlamon,” the farmer said. “What do you want from us? We are not rich.”

  “On the contrary. I thi
nk you have something very valuable. Your life,” the sadistic vampire laughed. “The time has come for you to bid farewell to your family, Urlamon.”

  And with a quick gesture he pounced on the woman's neck and with his fangs, hungrily sucked her blood. Urlamon screamed in horror.

  “What are you doing to my wife, you filthy beast?” he cried disconsolately.

  Vuthral continued sucking, while the women's skin became more and more pale. After a while, the woman's body fell to the ground, lifeless. Urlamon screaming for mercy. He said he could take whatever he wanted; they had some gold in the bedroom under a trapdoor, but to leave his family alone.

  The vampire then turned to the boy and looked at the farmer. It was a look of pure evil. Urlamon begged him to leave his son. It was his only son. He offered his life in exchange. But nothing could stop Vuthral, who bit the boy and sucked his blood, thus ending his life.

  The farmer wept disconsolately. Nothing mattered anymore. When the vampire untied him, he did not try to hit him again. He stood waiting for the outcome. In an evil twist, Vuthral told him that if he managed to leave the house, he would live and be free. The vampire really had no intention of keeping that promise. He just wanted to have fun a little longer. But Urlamon was so sad and grief-stricken that he barely had the strength to walk out the door. The vampire knew that the fun was over and, pouncing on the farmer, ended his life. Three human victims in one night was an extraordinarily generous portion, even for a vampire as old as Vuthral. A serving like this would sustain him for a long while.

  Before continuing his way, the vampire had to cover his tracks. He single-handedly took the three bodies in his arms and carried them out of the house, to the animal shed. Earlier he had perceived that the pigs had not yet been fed, when he surprised the woman. It was a large herd of about thirty or forty animals, and some were large. The pigs grunted as he came. It was obvious they were very hungry.

  The vampire laid the corpses on the floor. With his superhuman strength and violent claws, he tore the bodies one by one into several large pieces. After that, he threw them into different areas of the pig's enclosure, giving them the opportunity to access any piece. The pigs lunged on the meat voraciously.

  Vuthral then went to the house and entered the bedroom. He found the hatch where the farmer said he had kept the gold. It was not much, but he took it with him. Then he shifted a lot of the furniture in the rest of the house looking for anything valuable. Although he didn't find a lot, he took everything he found. He cared enough to leave things messy, so that everyone believed that this had been an assault with robbery.

  Vuthral vaguely remembered the distant time when he had been human. He had wanted to be rich, and didn't succeed. Now he had more money and goods that he had ever dreamed of, but he understood that the money lost much importance when you were immortal. Having all the time in the world made it easy to accumulate money, if you were smart. And he was very smart.

  He left the house with the goods they had found, and walked for a while; more than a league. When he reached a crossroads, he sought a relatively close lone tree that stood about fifty steps from the crossing. It was the only lone tree in the area. At its base, he dug a small hole and buried the goods. His servants would then come to pick them up. The place was sufficiently differentiated so that they would have no trouble finding it. Finally, he flew and went to his ultimate destination for the night.

  *******

  It was already late, and Ronu hadn't noticed. She had been entertained in the upper quarter, where artists exhibited their works in the street. There you could find a bit of everything: paintings, sculptures, antiques, jugglers, clowns and theatrical street performances. There was a continuous bustle of people in a lively and bohemian atmosphere. It was the liveliest area of the city and, for her, a shelter. Unfortunately, the flea market on the street began late in the afternoon and, whenever she visited, she got home later than usual. She preferred not to be late, especially, to not worry her mother. Although she had never understood what she had to worry about. In Bergen nothing ever happened.

  She had bought a couple of small chandeliers for her mother. They were old and very beautiful, and would look good in the dining room. In addition, they had cost just a couple of gold coins. She had to bargain and use all her charm on the seller. But undoubtedly, she had gotten a great deal. Her mother would be pleased. She expected this would compensate her mother's concern for her tardiness.

  After leaving the high district, she decided to cross the center through the park. It was a little darker, but it was a great shortcut. In addition, it seemed to be a very romantic walk, among the namal and ronto trees in the moonlight; they were her favorite trees. She walked happily through the Central Avenue of the Park. It was a beautiful night, after a lovely day. It had cooled a little after sunset, but the temperature was still very nice.

  She had hardly seen anyone since she had entered the park. Years ago, some constables guarded there at night and at other sites around the city center. But they had long since reduced the abundance of patrols to cut costs. The town was very quiet and there was hardly any crime.

  She kept walking. She only heard a few sounds: her footsteps on the path, the sounds in the park's garden (a cricket, an owl or a branch swaying in the wind) and her own breathing. She was nearing the end of the avenue. After arriving at the goldfish pond, she turned to the left, to go to the Gate of the Ronto.

  In that area of the park, the trails they were much narrower. The forest was much lusher there, and seemed to barge menacingly over the road, leaving little space for pedestrians, especially on a busy day.

  Suddenly, unexpectedly, she fell forward. She could barely avoid hurting herself or damaging the chandeliers, after breaking the fall with the palm of her left hand. She got up slowly, a bit dazed, as she checked her dress. Fortunately, she had not torn it and didn't stain it. She felt a bit stupid. With the darkness, she had not noticed that the root of a tree had grown deep into the path. She had stumbled and had fallen like a child.

  She resumed her way towards the gate. She could already make it out in the background. She had a few steps to go. It seemed that the temperature had dropped another couple of degrees; her thin jacket didn't cover her much, but it really wasn't that cold. She continued walking while trying to pay attention to where she stepped to avoid tripping again. Finally, she reached the gate and left the park.

  She was pretty close to her home, but still had to walk through the neighborhood. She crossed King's Avenue, which ran across the park, and had to stop because a horse-drawn carriage was passing at a certain speed. It was completely black and very elegant. Something about it caught her attention, but she didn't know what. After crossing the avenue, she entered through one of the main roads that would take her close to home. There were some people on the street, but very few. It was already quite late. After walking a dozen blocks, she finally reached a junction where she took the left path.

  Her house was only a hundred steps away. She walked two blocks and took the last turn to the right into her street. Her mother would surely be waiting for her.

  *******

  The vampire was waiting inside the ledge of a portal in the building next door. She could smell his prey in the air. She was just around the corner, he could feel her. He let the girl pass long and immediately jumped into the street and called her.

  “Miss, you dropped this,” he said, extending his arm with a flower in his hand.

  “That is not mine,” the girl said.

  She was already sentenced. The vampire took the opportunity to look her straight in the eye. The girl had considerable strength and great will power, but the power of the vampire in such a short distance was uncontrollable for almost any mortal. The girl eventually subdued after a while and began to follow the vampire after he made a gesture. There was a very elegant horse-drawn carriage waiting at the corner. They went inside. Unlike the usual, this car had no windows.

  CHAPTER 8: AN UNEXPECTED ME
ETING

  Mithir and Erion left before dawn. They were already out of town before the sun started to rise on the horizon. They bought some supplies and decided they would eat breakfast on the way to save time. They had a long journey ahead that day. When they had been riding for an hour, and after dawn, they left the road.

  “Let's stop briefly for breakfast,” Erion proposed.

  “After the rocks, it can be a good place,” Mithir pointed.

  “All right. I'll make the fire,” Erion said.

  “And I'll grab the food: sausage with cornbread,” the magician added.

  After eating, they picked everything up and prepared to resume their journey. It was then when they saw four wolves that had approached silently behind the rocks. The animals had a thin black coat. Its developed tense muscles let them perceive the almost complete absence of fat. The wolves showed their huge, furious, salivating tusks. The herd had probably detected their tracks with their tuned sense of smell. There was no time to lose. They had to react quickly.

  Erion ran to the saddle and grabbed his hand crossbow, who he had always prepared. He loaded it and shot one of the wolves. The arrow flew swiftly toward its goal and wounded one of them in a foreleg. Erion had aimed at its head, but the animal moved to start the race towards them. He was lucky to have reached the target, but the wolf could still be dangerous; at least it would be slower and easier to control.

  The other three beasts took charge against them, while the wounded wolf followed them more slowly. Mithir, who sat on his horse when the wolves appeared, pulled a small bag from his pocket. He took powder and some seeds from it. After making a few quick gestures and babbling murmurs, his hands began to glow with a silvery tone, and a moment later four small orange spheres shot out at high speed. They described strange curved paths, but they all reached their target. Three of them hit the first, the fastest, and shot him dead. The last hit the wolf that followed, wounding him in the side, but not killing it.