Haldred Chronicles: Alyssa

by JG Cully

  “Continue.” he said again, his eyes narrowing.

  “It would be easier,” she said tentatively. “if I could just show you. It's in one of the books. Over there. If you'll permit me?”

  Horna smiled that crooked smile again. “Nice try my dear.” he said.

  He used his other hand to signal to one of the Darnhun. Covered by his fellows, the soldier moved over to where Horna was, weapon up and aimed at the terrified youngsters at the centre of the room.

  “Which bookcase and which book? I will permit you to point without the need to shoot you.”

  “Yet.” he added with relish

  Victoria pointed over to one of the bookcases.

  “Red book. Top left.” she said.

  Horna looked over his shoulder and nodded. The soldier trotted over to the book case and looked about.

  “Top left.” Victoria said helpfully. “Red cover.”

  He started looking. Horna glanced over but kept his pistol trained on her. The Darnhun searched for a few seconds but presently turned around, shaking his head. Horna looked back at Victoria but she feigned ignorance.

  He nodded to one of the other soldiers and indicated the same bookcase.

  Two Darnhun now searched. Both Darnhun rapidly gave the same signal after a few moments. Horna stared back at Victoria again. He pulled the hammer back on his pistol.

  “Victoria, this is no time for games.”

  * * * * *

  Alyssa quickly realised she was playing a very deadly game, with a very deadly opponent. She backed away, keeping her distance as Regorash advanced. His rather confident advance.

  “I trusted you.” she breathed, feeling her heart quicken. Quicken for the first time in a long time but quickening for all the wrong reasons, fear being top of the list.

  “Yes, you did.” he grinned. “That was very stupid, but look at you now, all grown up. Just a bit too late.”

  Suddenly, he lunged forward with his sword. An alarmingly sudden burst of speed. Alyssa, on instinct, stepped to one side. The blade just missed her by a hair's breadth.

  Darn it she thought. I'm slower!

  “But no less skilled.” he said. “I can see you'll be a bit of an exercise at least.”

  She backed away again. Both of them illuminated by the odd lights above them, and the blackness they walked on seemingly infinite in all directions.

  Where am I?

  “Oh I may as well tell you.” he said smirking, revelling in the fact he could read her every thought.

  “We're in your head, you and I. One soul against another. One thousand year old vampire of impeccable breeding, decades of combat experience and extensive strength and ability.”

  He nodded at her.

  “...against an orphan girl barely out of her teens. Some would call it unfair.” He swung his sword in wide arcs, his grin turning cruel.

  “I call it, life.”

  “How come I don't get a sword?” Alyssa hazarded, playing for time as she just managed to side step another one of his thrusts.

  “Have you ever used one?” he asked, ducking low and advancing on her, sword ready for another strike.

  “Have you thought about having a sword?” he asked next, cocky grin growing

  “No.”

  Abruptly, a sword appeared in her hand. A fine legionnaire blade, a short sword. She'd seen it on the hips of militia watchmen. She blinked in mute shock but she recovered quickly, gripping the handle tightly and pointing the blade at him.

  “Ah.” he said, smiling at her almost praisingly. “Look at that. I had forgotten that the so called dominant soul has a certain amount of control over proceedings.”

  He pointed his sword at her. “Come on then. One for the road before I run you through.”

  Alyssa looked from sword to Regorash and back again.

  Then she threw the sword at him.

  Regorash, rather easily, ducked to one side and let the sword sail pass him to clatter into the darkness.

  He frowned as he glared back at her. “Generally one uses a sword to parry and thrust my dear. They make very bad missiles.”

  He shrugged. “Ah well. Time to die.”

  * * * * *

  Not good thought Victoria. Horna didn't seem to be in a time wasting mood.

  “Fine.” she said. “James, the book.”

  James flinched, looking from her to Horna. Horna kept his pistol on Victoria but cast a look down on the boy.

  “Just do it.” said Victoria, her expression resigned

  Or at least as resigned as she could make it look. James nodded, reaching behind him and bringing out the book from behind him. Horna smiled.

  “What a well-trained lad”

  He nodded to one of the Darnhun, who quickly moved over to grab it off James. Horna holstered his pistol, and Victoria relaxed just a little.

  Just a little more time.

  “What page?” he asked as he was handed the book and began to flick through it.

  “You really think I'll make it that easy for you?”

  He gave her a mocking, hurtful look. “Oh my dear. After all those years of loyal service you have decided to turn on your master. Heart-breaking”

  He continued leafing through the book, checking out each page he turned to. Around him, the Darnhun kept watch. Victoria dared not move a muscle and neither did Katy or James.

  Or Alyssa.

  Who as far as Victoria was concerned, was still unconscious.

  * * * * *

  Alyssa backed away as Regorash took another swing. This time, he connected.

  Mercifully for Alyssa it only just broke the skin, a tear across her left arm, cutting through the tunic drawing only a sliver of blood. She winched, the feeling of pain a new experience, but not a welcome one

  He's playing with me.

  “Yes I am.” grinned Regorash, in total control. “Technically your arm should be hanging off, but I've so enjoyed our catching up. Give up my dear. Even in your own mind, you have no hope.”

  “I do.” she said, though without conviction.

  How the hell am I going to beat this guy?

  She thought of a sword and yet again, another appeared in her hand. Regorash, anticipating, swung his sword and Alyssa blocked clumsily. The momentum of the blow tore the sword from her hand, sending it clattering into the darkness.

  “That's not really working now is it?” he asked, continuing to advance on her.

  “You can't fight me”

  Alyssa thought desperately.

  How? How to beat him?

  “All that time, you were lying to me?” she asked, trying to distract him.

  “Yes.” he replied without remorse.

  “Even about the boxes?”

  Regorash stopped, his face turning thoughtful. “Well point of fact, they were annoying I must say.”

  Boxes.

  In an eye-blink, a wooden box appeared between her and Regorash, complete with padlock. The exact one she had imagined countless times for containing Vlad. The idea had just popped into her head. Igor grimaced.

  “Yes, just like that.” he said with disgust, stepping round it.

  Then another appeared, and another. Both identical, sitting in front of him, blocking his path.

  “Novel,” he said. “but merely irritating.”

  He used his free hand to swipe away the nearest box out of his path, his immense strength sending the box end over end into the shadows. He continued advancing on her. Another box appeared.

  This time he kicked it, hard, smashing it asunder.

  “That is really quite annoying!”

  Two boxes, one above the other this time.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded, knocking the boxes from his path. “You cannot win you stupid child!”

  “No.” she said

  Regorash blinked, momentarily stopping in his tracks.

  All of a sudden, Alyssa's stance became more confident.

  “You said this was my mind.” she said. �
��That was your first mistake.”

  She took a few steps toward him, and he frowned, flicking his blade out in a warding gesture.

  “You said the boxes worked, that was your second mistake.”

  She stopped, just out of his weapons reach.

  “And your third.” she said. “was not backing off when I walked up to you”

  Regorash was clearly rather bemused and seemed to be in the process of forming an appropriate response, something along the lines of 'insolent whelp' or 'foolish girl' presumably. He never got to say it though.

  He was interrupted by a box filled with bricks landing heavily on his shoulders, bursting apart on impact. On a normal person it would have crushed them flat. For a vampire, it didn't crush him, but it did hurt. His sword clattered to the floor. Before he could recover, more heavy laden wooden boxes materialized from nowhere above and started to rain down on him.

  He tried to shield himself with his arms from the array of different sized boxes. He hissed and snarled like a beast, momentarily ignoring Alyssa. He channelled his formidable strength, his years of warfare experience, his vampiric superiority. He battered the boxes away or shattered them apart with his fists in a flurry of blows, his armour proof against the rain. But on and on the boxes came on, slamming into him with bone crushing force, each bursting apart on impact and littering the area with debris angering him, but more importantly, slowly weakening him. Alyssa stood watching; she was angry too.

  “You made me a monster.” she said, her voice taking on a tone of hate that surprised her. All her frustrations of the last year were boiling up, all her anger at being unable to lead a normal life.

  Igor roared, rage now mixed with pain as box on box cascaded onto him. Each and every one of the boxes was weighted down with stone bricks, the shattered remains of boxes and bricks now laying about the weakening vampire lord in ever increasing piles.

  “You ruined my life. You took away the sunshine.”

  Boxes smashed into him now with even greater fury, as if thrown instead of dropped. He growled through clenched teeth, having collapsed to the ground, his armour dented and pitted with multiple impacts. The deep dark magics of the armour, replicated in Alyssa's mind, were overwhelmed by the simple intensity of the bombardment.

  “But I never followed your instructions.”

  She bent down and picked up his discarded sword as he rolled weakly on the floor nearby. The box bombardment ceased. It had done its work, he was beaten.

  “I never killed anyone. Only took what blood I needed. Even helped those around me.”

  She advanced till she stood over him. He was battered and bruised, dazed and hardly moving now. His armour was buckled and broken in places; his chest plate in particular caved in and covered in dust and wood chippings. His face was a mess, his forehead bloodied and his eyes bloodshot. It was no longer beautiful. Nearby, his discarded helmet still sat, the mouthpiece agape, as if in shock at the damage done to its wearer. She looked down on him, tears in her eyes.

  “You ruined my life,” she said again. “but I never stooped to your level. I never did anything evil.”

  He sneered at her though his battered features. “Nothing...evil.” he mocked her, chuckling mirthlessly through his half broken jaw, challenging her. “You can't...kill.”

  Her expression darkened.

  “With you, I'll make an exception.”

  His eyes widened at the intensity in her voice. Alyssa breathed deeply, summoning all of her strength and then, with only the slightest hint of hesitation, plunged the sword straight through his broken breast plate and into his heart. He had a brief moment to gasp, looking at the sword, his own sword, sticking out from his chest, its finely worked blade easily penetrating his damaged armour plate. She had struck at the weak spot.

  “Saw it in the book.” she said, by way of explanation. “Just as good as a stake.”

  He made to reply but didn't get a chance, as his body hissed and crackled around him.

  His body disintegrated, burning and popping as it turned to fire and ash. His flesh burned away, then his organs, before even his bones became as dust inside his armoured suit. The armour folded in on itself, the sword clattering to the floor as the mass it had pierced evaporated to nothing. Then, even it start to crumble to dust, the armour and sword rusting rapidly; not even the helm remained. Within seconds, all that was left was a pile of ashes amongst the debris of the boxes.

  Alyssa watched it all. Tears in her eyes, heart aching and mind rebelling at the fact that however much he deserved it, she had just taken a life.

  Damn him to hell. I spent all those years not doing evil, and then it's an evil act that saves me.

  Exhaustion overcame her, and her world went black once more.

  * * * * *

  Victoria heard movement behind her. Alyssa stirred, her eyes opening. Victoria allowed herself a brief smile, but it wasn't over.

  Horna tossed the book to one side and drew his pistol again, noticing likewise that Alyssa was awake.

  “You've been delaying me.” he said bluntly, now aiming his pistol toward Alyssa. Victoria, obediently, kept her arms up.

  “Yes.”

  “The girl has changed back to a human, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  Victoria met his maddening gaze. He was shaking now with rage.

  “You have ruined everything!”

  Just at that moment Victoria heard the extremely welcome sound of running feet.

  “Yeah.” she said. “Guess what? I'm not finished.”

  “On the floor!” bellowed a strong northern Tornarian accent, as Malak and a group of armoured warriors and militiamen burst in from the corridor, weapons raised and ready for anything.

  The mercenaries with Malak were dressed in a similar style to him, with utility leather battle plate and welding K-12 repeater crossbows. The militia men, in their blue and red tabards, each singled out one of the Darnhun warriors, forcing them to the ground with aggressive words or batons. One by one the Darnhun were knocked to the ground without putting up much of a fight. Mercenaries they might be, but starting a war wasn't on the agenda; they had suddenly found themselves rather uncomfortably outnumbered by the locals.

  Horna, predictably, wasn't pleased.

  “Damn you!” Horna yelled, his pistol swinging round. He didn't know who to point at, his rage blinding him.

  “Drop it now!” bellowed Malak, his K-12 and those of three of his brethren being quickly aimed in Horna's direction.

  “Best do as he says Horna.” said a new voice, its volume thunderous and its tone commanding.

  From behind the line of Tornarian mercenaries, strode a formidable figure glad in grey robes and red fur, his face covered by a thick ginger beard and his eyes a piercing blue.

  Kane Maldor, Master of the Internal Investigation Department. Master of the Tornarian Mercenaries who had just broken up Horna Gladwell's little party,

  The plan had worked.

  It was a rather simple plan in the end. Whilst Victoria had been keeping an eye on things at the library, Malak had rushed back to the Council of Peace and raised the alarm with the Internal Investigation Department, Victoria having already put them on alert during the day. Kane, whom Victoria knew to be a long term rival of Horna, had jumped at the chance to catch Horna in the act of corruption of the highest order. The only issue, had been timing. Fortunately, they had obviously organised relatively quickly and her delaying tactics had been enough.

  Victoria had not found out just who Horna was working for, as Glynis had not been privy to that information, but she could guess that whoever it was had access to Darnhun mercenaries, or it was the Darnhun themselves. Either way, it was a party outside of the Council of Peace. An outside element for sure; a textbook case of corruption and one she had banked on Kane Maldor leaping at.

  Bloody good to see you Kane.

  Victoria could see fingers tensing on crossbow triggers.

  Then Horna did something no-one expected
. He aimed his pistol, but not at any of the mercenaries or even at Victoria. No, he aimed for Alyssa.

  Oh shit!

  Victoria dived for the pistol. Horna saw her coming.

  The pistol fired.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twelve:

  The Right Kind Of Ending

  * * * * *

  Victoria mumbled, her eyes flickering open. Immediately she shut them again as she noticed how bright the place was.

  “Gods.” she moaned. “Turn off the light!”

  “Victoria!”

  It was Malak's voice.

  “Malak.” she said weakly. “What?”

  “You,” he was saying, though she couldn't see him. “are one bloody lucky woman. Proper bloody stupid one as well.”

  “I aim to please.” she said, her head groggy. “What happened?”

  “You took a bullet that was going for the girl. Went straight through your arm. You blacked out with the impact. You've been out most of the day.”

  “Yay for me.” she replied, now registering a dull pain in her left arm. “Ouch.”

  As her eyes started to focus, she found she was in a long room with beds arrayed either side. Malak sat beside her, a number of mead mugs beside him on a small table and a pillow case propped by the bed. As she became used to the light of the window in front of her, Victoria found her arm was in a sling and she was dressed in bedclothes.

  “Horna?”

  Victoria's eyes had focused enough to see Malak grinning.

  “Oh yeah, took the bastard myself. He survived. But it won't be a good life.”

  “Which was an accident you understand.” he added quickly, his expression mock serious. “I simply happened to shoot him in the base of the spine. After all, he did shoot you”

  “Accidents do happen” she agreed.

  You cruel bastard, but I think I would have done the same.

  She grimaced slightly, feeling her arm. “I take it the Internal Investigation Department will...”

  “Press charges, oh hell yes. He'll hang regardless. Or worse.”