Haldred Chronicles: Alyssa

by JG Cully

  Haldred Chronicles: Alyssa

  By J G Cully

  Text copyright © 2012 John-George Cully

  All rights reserved

  Dedicated to my friends and family

  Thank you for believing in me

  About the Author

  JG Cully lives and works in Northern Ireland. He writes fantasy detective novels, has a keen interest in war gaming and has a Northern Ireland brand sense of humour.

  You can find out more about his exploits in the links below.

  Blog page

  http://jgswritinganovel.blogspot.co.uk

  Goodreads page

  http://www.goodreads.com/jgcully

  JGC's Authors Page (UK)

  http://www.amazon.co.uk/JG-Cully/e/B00AJ3LPA2/

  JGC's Authors page (US)

  http://www.amazon.com/author/jgcully

  Haldred Chronicles Facebook page

  http://www.facebook.com/haldredchronicles

  Twitter name

  https://twitter.com/jgwritesnovels

  LinkedIn

  http://uk.linkedin.com/jgcully

  Pinterest

  https://www.pinterest.com/jgcully/

  Tumblr

  https://www.tumblr.com/blog/jgcully

  Table of Contents

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1: A Clumsy Start

  CHAPTER 2: Chance Encounters

  CHAPTER 3: The Huntress

  CHAPTER 4: An Unfortunate Turn Of Events

  CHAPTER 5: Case Review

  CHAPTER 6: Things As They Are

  CHAPTER 7: Then Things Changed...

  CHAPTER 8: Enter The Darnhun

  CHAPTER 9: Hope Is Kindled

  CHAPTER 10: Toward A Conclusion

  CHAPTER 11: The Unexpected

  CHAPTER 12: The Right Kind Of Ending

  EPILOGUE: A Watcher In The Night

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  “They may slay my mortal body, but I am not so easily defeated. Time is on my side, and I will spend it well.”

  Attributed to Igor Regorash

  Chapter one:

  A Clumsy Start

  * * * * *

  Not again...

  ...was the first thought that came to Alyssa's mind as she hurtled through the air, because this wasn't the first time she had found herself in this position, nor indeed would it be the last. She had yet to learn, even after such a long time, how to judge distances properly when jumping, and when you're jumping from rooftop to ledge, judging the distance was critical. Otherwise you fell in an undignified heap on the ground.

  Which was what would be happening to her shortly.

  Why me?

  That was always the question that came to her mind as she was about to impact. She had decided long ago that being a vampire really wasn't much fun, even if she was the last of her kind.

  The one who had turned her had been none other than Igor Regorash. The Blood Tyrant himself. The Grand Dictator of all vampires in the land of Argon, possibly the world, but she'd never given it much thought. The Master of Evil. The Destroyer of Hope. The whatever-the-hell-else he wanted to call himself. For years he and his army had rampaged across the southern reaches of Argon unchecked, butchering entire villages, burning crop lands and turning those slain into the walking undead. The Argon military however were more concerned with fighting the Six Nations War than fighting a vampire. Regorash's attacks were relatively new, after all, whilst the Six Nations War had raged for more than fifty years. Magra invasions, Trima counter attacks and Darnhun raids were but a few of the greater threats the military had to face. A marauding vampire, no matter how dangerous, was fighting on a much smaller scale than Argon’s many enemies who threatened far greater areas of land and promised greater destruction.

  The legends said kill the Grand Dictator and you released all his victims from the curse of the vampire. So, instead of launching a full scale military campaign, a band of plucky adventurers (always plucky, but never particularly sensible) had set to the task. Sacrificing life and limb, they had entered the tyrant's fortified keep in the south-lands, fighting through his undead hordes and at last confronting him. In an epic battle worthy of song (two songs in the end actually), they had finally slain him and with a sudden flash, all who had been vampires were freed from the curse.

  The undead hordes of skeletons and zombies crumbled to dust, those inflicted with the vampire curse reverted to their human forms and the story was trumpeted as a triumph across the length and breadth of the country, vastly improving morale in a country stricken with war. It was good news for all. Indeed it was but the first bout of good news, for no more than a few months later the Six Nations War finally came to an end. Peace descended across the land. Everyone, every country, race and community, breathed a collective sigh of relief. All except Alyssa.

  For some reason, as yet undiscovered, she was still undead instead of simply not-dead.

  No other vampires that she knew of now existed. Just her, unique little her, existing as a vampire for nearly a year and a half now. Managing to survive, after a fashion, in the Argon capital of Larrick City.

  She wore glasses.

  In fact she had always worn glasses even before she had become a vampire. She reasoned that she probably didn't need them any more but kept up the masquerade, which helped her fit in with normal people as well as maintain her humanity.

  The rather urgent thought about the wearing of glasses had surfaced in her mind to remind her to turn, so they didn't get crushed by her fall. In mid-air she expertly twisted her body round so she could land on her back. This was one thing she had learned to do at least, and do it well. She had had rather a lot of practice.

  THUMP!

  Alyssa lay flat on her back, looking up at the moonlit sky, winter clouds drifting past lazily.

  “Ouch.” she managed in a tiny voice.

  It had hurt nowhere near as much as it should but then she was a vampire. Her body, despite still looking like that of an eighteen year old girl, was capable of taking a great deal of damage with only minor pain registering. The fall had broken no bones nor scratched any skin. She could feel pain but it was an uncomfortable kind as opposed to debilitating, as if she had just tripped and fallen on her back instead of having fallen three storeys directly onto a cobbled street.

  Still pigging hurt though.

  She sighed looking up at where she had meant to be after her jump, which was a fairly sizeable ledge jutting from the side of the house opposite where she'd leapt from. It was a ledge leading to a bottle glass window, the expensive kind. Through the window was a lavishly decorated and pointlessly huge bedroom. Sleeping in the bedroom was a very rich man. Who also happened to be a very bad man.

  Alyssa might be the last of her kind but she was determined to do things differently. No empire building, no enslaving humanity. Nothing evil. Well not that evil anyway. Sucking blood from a criminal overlord wasn't that evil was it? Particularly as she wouldn't kill him, she just...drained him a little. It was a public service. Most drained bad guys didn't do so well in the planning and execution of their nefarious activities, so they were easier to catch for the militia, which meant they went behind bars where they couldn't do as much evil. She was the one who started it all. She got the required amount of blood to keep her alive (alive being a very loose term of course), the militia got their man. Sorted.

  That is, when she succeeded which regrettably, wasn't all that often.

  You see misjudging distances was, unfortunately, not Alyssa's only failing. She was also somewhat...clumsy.

  Technically speaking she had the strength of ten men, the ability to leap over average sized buildings in a single bound and possessed a few other abilities that openl
y defied the rules of the physical world. However, none of these abilities prevented her from being clumsy. The way she rationalized it was that Nature itself rebelled against her very existence, particularly because it liked picking on individuals who were the 'last' of their kind. Nature wanted to clean up and so made damn sure that in any given situation she would bump into something, or someone, misjudge a jump, or wreck things in some other clumsy way. Nature didn't like her. The truth was she had always been clumsy and being turned into a vampire hadn't changed that.

  But whilst she was clumsy, she was also a very beautiful woman.

  Her jet-black hair was cut short to frame her face, and whilst she couldn't change her hairstyle (vampire hair after all did not grow) she kept it clean and well groomed. Her face had sharp green eyes that seemed more elfish than human, augmented by long eyelashes and high cheek bones. When she wasn't grimacing from falling in a heap on the floor, she had a wide enchanting smile full of perfect white teeth, with only mildly sharp canines. Her petite body was perfectly proportioned, with curves that hadn't left her since her transformation into a vampire. A pity then that, at that moment, said curves had managed to crack a couple of cobblestones.

  Alyssa decided lying on the ground was unlikely to accomplish anything. So, with an accompanying groan, she pulled herself into a seated position, hugging her knees as she cast another glance at the ledge above her.

  Looks like I'll just have to climb then.

  She wasn't sure if climbing was all that practical, (her blue dress, whilst correctly cut to her figure, was not meant for the wear and tear of nightly roof-running) or indeed if she could find purchase against the bricks whilst climbing up the wall with the black leather walking shoes she had on, which were not designed for hiking up the side of buildings, especially in winter time. Then again, leaping in a dress wasn't all that practical either now was it? At least this time she hadn't screamed her way down to earth. Falling off buildings had become so regular that she saw no need to announce it to all and sundry.

  Thankfully, no one seemed to be alerted to her presence.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Ah!” she yelped, snapping her head round to the source of the voice.

  Standing a few metres away was a young man dressed in brown tunic and leggings, about her own age and looking suitably surprised. He was standing with his back to the door of the building Alyssa had unsuccessfully attempted to leap from. Immediately Alyssa's brain asked a very important question.

  Did he see me fall?

  If he had well, that was bad. Alyssa maintained at least some vampire traditions. One of which was not being discovered as a vampire, which was surprisingly hard to do if someone saw you fall three storeys with no apparent injury to yourself. Discovery meant death, and probably of the long and painful kind. Whilst she was technically already dead, she'd no great wish to experience it again.

  But after a few tense seconds she realized that the guy before her didn't seem to be reacting the way someone would after having just seen a woman hurtling from the sky to land heavily on the ground. He was just standing, looking at her a bit oddly. And it was only then that she remembered she was still sitting on the ground; in the middle of the street; on a cold, winter's night.

  She stood, rather quickly, and smiled awkwardly.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I kind of...tripped and fell.”

  Alyssa didn't like lying but it had become necessary given her condition. Technically she had fallen, but not lightly.

  “Oh right.” the man said, returning the smile. “Are you ok?”

  If only you knew, she didn't say.

  At this stage she got a better look at him. Alyssa had found that as a vampire, her night vision was very good. So even though he was standing in the shadows of the door, out of the glare of the streets oil lanterns, she could see him well enough. He'd a youthful face, probably just out of his teens, with the faintest whiff of a moustache under his nose; light brown hair cut very short, with deep brown eyes if she wasn't mistaken even in the gloom of night. Probably a dockyards worker or something similar she reasoned, considering his clothing. The capital's massive ship building yards were not far from the street they were in and it was that time of the night when the night shift workers would be finishing.

  He's handsome too.

  She caught herself, managing not to vocalize that thought.

  “No, I'm ok. Just tripped like I said.”

  “Ok,” he replied. He was looking over at her, a slight smile on his face, as if distracted. This wasn't that unusual. Alyssa wasn't blind. Although she hadn't seen a mirror in over a year and a half (vampires cast no reflection, she didn't know why, only that it was very inconvenient.) she was reasonably sure she was still what most would consider in this day and age pretty. A thought she clung to as a measure of humanity. The fact that she still kept an extensive wardrobe of good clothes in clean condition meant that even without a mirror, she reckoned she could still manage to look her best in any given situation.

  But she had also noticed that since becoming a vampire people had become somewhat evasive of her. Crossing the road away from her when she got close, avoiding her eyes, unusual shuddering as she walked past. Even backing off when she stepped toward them. All very unnatural, particularly as not a soul knew she was a vampire. She'd kept that secret, very secret. And yet, he'd done none of these things. He was looking straight at her and not flinching away at her return look. Neither was he hurriedly trying to open his door or anything that would indicate that he wanted to avoid her.

  Not that she was complaining. It had been a very long time since she had had a proper conversation with a human being that didn't start or end with the frantic words 'I have to go now!'.

  “You from around here?” he asked next.

  Stranger and stranger.

  “No,” she shrugged. She began to relax a little.

  She flicked her hair back behind her ears, fixing her glasses before speaking again. She found her awkward smile now transitioning to a warmer one.

  “I'm from further north.” She didn't go as far as mentioning her street.

  Alyssa still lived in a house, a rented house one might add, and slept in a bed. She had bluntly refused to conform to the stereotype of sleeping in a coffin. She would do that when she was really dead. Instead she slept in a proper bed with proper sheets. Whilst she couldn't feel the warmth of those sheets any more, simply having them reassured her. Keeping them clean and tidy was a nice routine to have. It meant that when she did get visitors, few as they were, there wasn't a big tell-tale coffin sitting in the bedroom, which might as well have 'I am a vampire!' stamped over it.

  “You lived here long yourself?” she said, gesturing to the man's house.

  “Yeh.” he said, doing the same as her and trying to keep the conversation going but not sure where to direct it.

  “It's not much but it'll do.” he added.

  Alyssa thought the statement a little off. They were in one of the more well-to-do districts of Larrick City, an area called Spelgaa (No, she didn't know why it had an unnecessary 'a' at the end of its name). The house was a decent size as far as she could see; just a little larger than her own and well looked after, on the outside anyway. It was three storeys high, built from red muddy bricks with faded but well-kept wooden beams criss-crossing its surface. She guessed there was a living room on the bottom, bedroom on the first level and probably a store at the top. Much like most of the buildings in the capital. Built to space-restricting specifics and squeezed in wherever there was room. Even in the richest areas, space was at a premium. A lot of people lived in Larrick city.

  “It’s nice.” she said, and meant it.

  They gazed at each other again.

  “Look,” he said at length. “I know this is really forward but...do you want to come in for a cup of tea?”

  Alyssa looked taken back, blinking in genuine amazement. He wanted to have tea with her?

  That better not be s
ome euphemism for sex.

  Alyssa had been brought up in a 'no sex until married' orphanage and wasn't about to abandon that. Whilst Sister Superior Mary-Lee was long dead, Alyssa was pretty sure that the old crow of the Saraken faith would soundly beat the snot out of her if she disobeyed her even now. She suspected that dying had been considered a mild inconvenience for the Sister Superior and was unlikely to stop her.

  She paused to study him for a moment. If he did try any funny business, she was quite sure she could take him, and this definitely didn't happen often.

  Hell, why not?

  “Actually, that would be nice.” she decided.

  Her smile grew, as did his.

  She was immediately impressed as he held the doorway open for her and she entered. The house was indeed as clean on the inside as it was on the outside.

  “Have a seat.” he said, indicating the small wooden dining table and chairs at the centre of the room.

  She duly sat down, hands clasped in front of her as she gazed around. The room was very tidy. A small bookshelf sat under one of the two small bottle glass windows at the front of the house, stacked with some plain looking books. A writing table was below it, quill and ink well at the ready and several parchments sitting arrayed in uniform lines.

  He can afford books and ink. This guy has coin, no doubt about it.

  Paper, after all, was expensive. Whilst the so called 'printing presses' (Alyssa had little knowledge of them other than they apparently built books) were plentiful in the post-war world, trees for making paper were not. In a choice between using trees to rebuild or using trees to make paper, rebuilding won through every time.

  In his kitchen area, there was a fine looking porcelain sink sitting off to one side with a covered bucket underneath it; a variety of small cupboards were mounted on the walls. Shelves on either side had kitchen implements hanging from them or sitting atop. A cloak rack sat beside the door with only the man's grey cloak now hanging from it. The floor was unfinished wood, with a few rugs here and there. Mostly plain single colour rugs, nothing fancy.