Wilmurin: Land of the Druids

by H. J. Cronin

  3

  Island of Evil

  The boat hit the volcanic, rocky beach of Blood Island with a thud. Katrina, the eldest daughter of the Black Widow, disembarked with her small retinue of men and three slave girls, all of them naked apart from their underwear and chains. All that the Black Widow carried with her was a satchel from her mother and her evil barbed whip. The slave girls were unwanted bastard daughters of her mother, they were to serve as a blood sacrifice. The beach was made up of black sand and stone, a pleasant sight for Katrina, apart from the sand sticking to the sole of her boots. She looked around with her dark eyes while brushing her long black hair from her face. In front of them, above the beach on top of the cliffs, she could see Vandaloria, home of the Vandalore Clan. ‘Captain, come here, now,’ she instructed the captain in her seductively powerful voice.

  The captain instantly responded and approached her. ‘Yes, mistress, what are your orders?’

  ‘Leave the boat here with one guard. The rest of you lead the way up the cliff to Vandaloria. Keep on your guard, the counts have eyes all over these islands and will not hesitate to destroy us.’

  ‘Yes, mistress,’ the captain nodded in reply and looked to his men. ‘Right, you man, wait here for us. Everybody else, we make for the top of the cliff. Simond, you lead the way.’

  The small party immediately made for the cliffs and found some crude rocky steps which led to the top of the cliff. Although they looked treacherous and dangerous the small party climbed up anyway. Only two of the captain’s eight men fell to their deaths. Katrina and her three unwanted sisters had no problem, for their finger-tips were full of spider-like barbs that allowed them to ascend easily. They quietly reached the top of the cliffs; the only noise being the waves and the wind on this cold night. Vandaloria was just a few miles ahead, when they saw a small contingent of riders approaching.

  ‘Look lively, men,’ Katrina called. ‘We have company.’

  The horses approached quickly and surrounded them. There must have been two dozen men, all clothed in dark grey, thick armour. All of their faces, apart from one, were obscured. This rider had long white hair and grey skin and his eyes were red. He was one of the counts; Katrina found him attractive but knowing that was his vampire charm, she also knew that she had to tread carefully. Any offence caused could ruin the plans.

  ‘Ah, you are Katrina of the Black Widow Clan,’ the vampire hissed. ‘What is a beautiful woman such as you doing in Vandaloria? Do you come to warm my bed?’

  ‘Enough small talk, count. My mother sent me, and I come to speak to your council.’ Katrina said carefully, never breaking eye contact and succeeding in making the vampire feel uneasy.

  ‘Oh? And how is that lovely mother of yours? My name is Count Drakar. I am at your service, madam. Follow me, and bring those three,’ he said, looking at the three almost naked slave girls. He made to leave but turned back to the newcomers. ‘Your men will stay here, my lady. If they come near our castle they will be slaughtered,’ he instructed as he signalled to Katrina to mount his own horse. The party left the cliff line and headed towards the dark castle of Vandaloria.

  The massive iron gates opened inwards and the group galloped inside. Katrina entered the dungeon-like world of Vandaloria, noticing that the walls inside were soaked with blood, while armoured men patrolled the area. There was a strong stench of death and decay. Some prisoners were held in small pens, they were either food or entertainment but Katrina had no sympathy for the weak. They dismounted and carried on walking through what seemed like a deserted city. Her mother had told her of Vandaloria and how vast it was, but now the living no longer dwelt there. It was only the clan leaders and their small following of vampires who now inhabited the place. Their failed war against the mainland nineteen years ago was a disaster, except of course for wiping out their nemesis clan, the Night Hunters. Why would her mother want to align herself with such a weak clan? A clan that was run by vampires. Something was unusual about this situation. The Black Widow Clan was the second largest clan and the most powerful. What good would a bunch of vampires be to them?

  They approached the main citadel and entered. From the entrance they walked into a large hall which was so big that it could host an entire army. Its impressive architecture made it seem like a different world entirely from the rest of the plain, dim city of Vandaloria. Directly in front of them Katrina could make out nine thrones. Five of them were occupied. She knew that three members of the Vandalore Clan perished in the last war. Above them was an even bigger throne, this one, it would seem, was the throne for an absent god, whom Katrina did not know. She approached them with Drakar, and the determined look on her face didn’t give away any of her anxiety. But she was of the Black Widow Clan and fear was not a common family trait.

  One of the seated clan leaders stood and opened his arms out as if to embrace the air. He looked like Drakar, with the same dark grey skin and long white hair, but he was older.

  ‘Welcome Katrina, daughter of the Black Widow, to our kingdom, and also to the three beautiful women who accompany you. I trust that they are of virgin blood.’

  Katrina sniggered at the first comment.

  ‘Kingdom? The great Vandalore Clan has been reduced to a handful of vampire lords and an almost deserted city, which is no kingdom. And of course they are virgins, my mother does not break her word. They are fresh from blossoming.’

  ‘You dare speak to us with such insolence, woman? We invited you here, and now you must treat with us as a guest should,’ the vampire growled in response. He quickly shook off his anger and said, ‘I am Count Vilco, the caretaker of this clan.’

  ‘Caretaker? What kind of rubbish title is that?’ Katrina said with a mocking smile on her ruby lips.

  ‘All will be explained in due course, child.’

  That comment infuriated Katrina, but she remembered to keep her cool because up here she was alone. Vilco waited for a response. She realised that she needed to be diplomatic, in the way her mother had instructed her.

  ‘Well then, caretaker Vilco. Why is it my mother requests your allegiance, and you some sacrifices?’

  It was Vilco’s turn to laugh,

  ‘Ha! Katrina! You really do not know do you? We requested your mother’s service. Now Katrina, I take it you are familiar with Count Darkool?’ he replied with an eager grin.

  ‘Yes, I have heard of him. He perished many centuries ago at the hands of the Night Hunters.’

  ‘You know your history, little Widow,’ he said with a smile. ‘Count Darkool was not destroyed entirely. The Night Hunters destroyed only part of him, and we have acquired his remains.’ Katrina listened intently as she did not know where this talk was going.

  ‘We have the ability to bring him back to once again rule Vandaloria. But we require a blood sacrifice. Your mother has willingly given some.’

  ‘Ha! That is preposterous. The dark count is beyond recovery. The Night Hunters saw to that!’ Katrina replied. The vampires truly have gone mad here, she thought to herself. ‘And what would be in it for our clan, then? If Darkool really did return that is,’ she added curiously

  ‘Immunity from his wrath. That is a fair bargain. There are other means to bring him back though. Means that require more time and dedication. This is the easy route.’

  ‘My mother would never agree to this. She doesn’t trust your clan as much as the next one. I take my leave, gentlemen.’

  She made to walk away when Vilco stopped her. ‘That satchel you carry with you was given to you by your mother. It is protected by a spell that only her kin can open, am I correct?’ Katrina looked down at the satchel and nodded. ‘She told you not to open it until you reached my land. Is that right?’

  Katrina wondered where this was going, but she nodded her agreement as Count Vilco continued.

  ‘Open the satchel, because the Life Scroll we require is inside.’

  Katrina’s face gave away her shock. It couldn’t be possible. Her mother would never do suc
h a thing without the approval of the clan. However, she performed the enchantment to open the satchel and indeed, there within, was the scroll. She took it out and handed it to Vilco. ‘I do not know how this is possible,’ she said. ‘You must have had her under one of your charms to agree to this!’

  ‘Your mother was quite willing to bargain with us. The future of your clan would be “set in stone” as they say. Again, Count Darkool will rise and blood will be spilt over Wilmurin!’ Vilco said, pumping his fist into the air. Katrina continued to look on in shock. ‘Now daughter of the Widow, go and rest, and we shall have more words shortly. Guards! Take her to the visitor’s chamber and the three women to the cells; they are to be guarded well.’

  Katrina scoffed and walked away. She was fuming because she knew that her mother had deceived her. What was she playing at? Bargaining with the Vandalore Clan was foolishness. And what was this business with Count Darkool? This was a strange turn of events. She then thought about how powerful an ally the dark count would be. Wilmurin would fall. No one could know of this. She arrived at the visitor’s quarters and sat down. The guard later brought her a glass of wine, and she wondered what had become of her captain and his men. She no longer cared, just as long as she could get home.

  Katrina sat down on a stool sipping at her chalice of wine. She reflected on the day’s events and wondered what possibly the Vandalores could still want with her? Was she to be a prisoner? A hostage? No, that cannot be it, they had the sacrifices. One thing she did know was that she needed to talk to her mother. Her mother had gone with her younger sister to the capital, Flordonium, to a meeting called by the great bear King Bemnom about some dire news. She then wondered whether it had any connection to why she was here in Vandaloria.

  A knock at the door disturbed her thoughts and in walked a guard in dark armour.

  ‘Madam, the council will see you now,’ he said abruptly as he led the way to the council chambers.

  They walked through the castle’s dark chambers, only the light of the fire lamps showing the way. Vampires were not best of friends with the light of the day and magic was required when they walked upon land in day time. They entered the council chambers, and there in the same semi-circle, the council sat as if they never moved. All of the council members looked very much alike, with their dark grey skin and long white hair; the only difference was the ageing in their faces. In front of them, on a stone table, lay a skeleton corpse. Curiosity filled Katrina at this sight. She approached the council and stood before the corpse.

  ‘Well, this is a nice pile of bones you have here, vampire. What is it? Your entertainment?’ Katrina announced, looking at the skeleton in front of her.

  Vilco started to laugh, with a deep and chilling sound that made even Katrina feel uneasy.

  ‘Pile of bones, young Katrina? Why, that is Count Darkool you lay eyes upon.’

  Katrina’s uneasy look was not lost on him. She now stared at the body with both amazement and fear. ‘So it is true, Count Vilco, you do have him? So how do you plan to raise the dark count from this set of bones here?’ she asked sceptically, still staring at the skeleton.

  ‘We have found a necromancer who was more than willing to do our bidding in return for favour. He is very powerful and will perform the spell to reincarnate the dark count.’ He turned to Drakar. ‘Go and get the necromancer, my son.’

  Drakar nodded and walked away towards a door on his left. He returned with a person cloaked in a dark hooded robe. His face was obscured and the sleeves hid his hands. As soon as he entered, the chamber felt darker and more tense than it had before. The two approached the council and the necromancer approached the skeleton.

  ‘Shalon, you may begin your ritual. Be hasty. I can wait no longer.’

  ‘Yes count,’ Shalon replied. ‘I trust you will keep your end of the bargain.’

  ‘Absolutely, Shalon. Now, work your trade,’ Vilco retorted impatiently.

  Katrina had grown irritated as she looked at Vilco. ‘Please explain why you need me here to witness this event. I would like to take my leave and report to my mother.’

  ‘Silence, child, you are here to witness the return of Count Darkool,’ Vilco responded dismissively. He then looked at Katrina with an evil smile. ‘Your mother already knows about these events. You are here to be her witness and to deliver the sacrifices.’

  The necromancer stood next to the skeleton, lifted his arms and raised his head as if to look up to the sky. He began a low murmur which slowly rose into a high-pitched screech, and then fell back to a murmur. He spoke in a long forgotten language while touching the skull of Count Darkool and reading from the scroll. The chanting again got louder, and without warning a fire bolt shot from his hood up to the ceiling, bouncing off before returning to the skeleton. It entered the mouth of the skull and the fire spread across the whole body. The skeleton levitated one foot above the table, though still lying down motionless.

  ‘I now require the blood if his kin,’ the necromancer said, not moving a muscle. As soon as he had said that one of the counts rose and offered his hand. The necromancer cut the count’s hand, releasing a tide of blood that dripped on the floor. He grabbed the count’s wrist and placed it over the animated skull. Blood dripped into its mouth. The room immediately became dark and the flames blew out. And just as quickly, they were alight again. Slowly the corpse’s hands and feet began to move and the mouth began to open and close as if to try and speak or breathe.

  Katrina was astonished looking on at this spectacle. She had witnessed much, but had never seen a thing like this. Muscle and other matter began to form on the bones, and soon veins began to take shape. The corpse was now pale red and blood began circulating around the body. Even skin grew from the muscle which in turned created a dark grey-skinned man levitating above the stone table. Unlike his kin he had short white hair, which was parted. His eyes were still closed but his mouth was open. He suddenly landed back down on the table and was motionless. The necromancer stood back and waited.

  Darkool, for the first time in many centuries, opened his eyes slowly, looking upon his ancient Great Hall. His smile was evil as he looked around, running his tongue over his teeth and his fangs. He sat up, the people surrounding him were all staring. He saw that all of his clan members were bowing. He only recognised Vilco, his son. The others were strangers. He saw a hooded figure and knew instantly that this was the being who had brought him back. His gaze then fell on Katrina, a beautiful woman who was staring at him with frightened eyes.

  He knew the first thing he wanted.

  ‘I am hungry,’ he said, in an exhausted voice.

  ‘Father, it is I, Vilco. We have acquired some food for you. Count Drakar, and you, Count Varko, get him some clothes fit for a leader.’

  They ran off to collect the offerings for his new master. When they returned he presented them to Count Darkool; the dark count licked his lips and instantly pounced on one of the sacrifices, sinking his fangs into the helpless woman. Blood spurted from the wound and Count Darkool drank. He finished off the others and was quickly satisfied. They knew what they were here for, so they offered no resistance, unquestioningly accepting their terrible fate.

  Now his strength, memory and power had returned, he turned and faced Count Vilco.

  ‘How long have I been gone … my son?’

  ‘Five hundred years, Father,’ Vilco said with a bow. ‘Father, we defeated the Night Hunters nearly twenty years ago. We wiped them all out!’

  ‘Indeed. But Vilco, why have you left it so long to bring me back?’ Count Darkool asked with a sinister tone. He could sense the uneasiness in Vilco. ‘Do you desire my throne so much? Do you see yourself more powerful than me?’

  ‘N … n … n … no, Father, the time had not been right!’ Vilco answered and it became obvious he was full of fear.

  ‘Then why must you stand there and lie to me? I have the power to see into your mind, my son. There is a descendant of the Night Hunters who has returned to Wil
murin after a long absence. His name is Johan.’

  Vilco was petrified that Count Darkool knew of Johan. He had hoped to keep this from the dark count until Johan was found and killed.

  ‘I also know of the Black Widow’s men who had attempted to capture the lone Night Hunter but who instead ended up dead at the hands of the bears.’

  ‘Father … please forgive me. I do not mean to deceive you. This problem will be resolved.’

  ‘Yet you have not mentioned the fact that you have authorised one of the counts and some of my soldiers to patrol the lands telling stories of my return. Now that my return is not so much a secret but a known truth, we must act with haste. My son, you have lied to your father, your leader, and have left me too long gone from this world. This is treason beyond forgiveness.’

  With that Count Darkool pounced on his son, and drove his fingers into Vilco’s head. He learned all he needed to know of the pact with the Black Widow from sucking Vilco’s life force. Once he was satisfied and with barely any effort he ripped Vilco’s head clean from his shoulders and threw it on the floor for the others to see.

  ‘Such a thing will happen to anyone who betrays me. I am lord of the Vandalore Clan once again.’

  Katrina looked on in horror. Even her clan was not this brutal and knew the value of family. She bowed her head at Count Darkool, ‘I will be taking my leave, my lord, and returning to my mother,’ she said with a broken voice.

  ‘Not so fast, daughter of the Black Widow. May I ask you something? How fares the spider bitch?’ Darkool asked with a grin.

  Katrina stared at Darkool with hate following this insult. ‘My mother is well, my lord. She is a different Widow from the one you would have known. She is more powerful.’

  ‘Ah, the child has faith in her mother. Tell me, little spider, what is the new Black Widow doing about Johan the Night Hunter?’ Darkool responded.

  Katrina eased back, calming herself. She knew that there was no use in lying to the count. ‘Our spy tells us that Johan makes his way to the Eagle’s Tower with two of the bear’s children. My mother has despatched my sister Felecia and her men to intercept them before the Wolves Valley. They will be killed, and Johan brought to you as a prize.’ She let the information sink in with a grin. ‘My mother now travels to Flordonium to speak to the council about rumours of the dark count returning. She will of course play down these rumours.’