by R. A. Miller
What he saw tonight, right in front of him, was proof enough for him. These creatures of legend, at least one, were alive and very much the killers the stories said they were.
He had to warn his people. He had to act now.
Markus pulled himself together and exited the dining hall in search of another watchman. He quickly found one at the end of the hallway. The young man was sitting against the wall, his hands holding his intestines in.
“Your Highness,” the watchman exhaled, “We couldn’t…”
Markus put a hand on the young man's shoulders and betrayed no fear or worry.
“It’s alright, son. I will find help for you. Try not to talk.”
All along the hall bodies littered the floor, all dead. Guards and maids alike lay lifeless as he walked the hall. The heavy wooden doors at the end of the hall were open; two bloody handprints marking the place the vampyre had touched them.
Outside, some men were attending to a lone dead guard lying face down in the dirt. Markus pulled their attention away.
“My boy, call more guards, all of them. Have them meet in the courtyard. Then find yourself a horse. I need you to deliver a message to Foxcrest.”
“What is it? What's happening, sire?”
“Go,” Markus ordered, “Do it now and do it quickly. The kingdom depends on it.”
Markus watched the young man disappear around a corner and took in a deep breath. He needed to form a plan and he needed to do it fast. He couldn't go into a meeting with his guard and have no idea what to do. But the truth was, he didn't. Nothing in his thirteen years as a king of Raven’s Hold had prepared him for this. This was out of his league. This was out of control. This was madness.
A serving girl entered the hallway from the kitchens and headed for the dining hall. Markus stopped her and held her by the arm.
“Everyone needs to stay away from the dining hall. Go and tell the others.”
The girl ran off and as she got back to the kitchens Markus made one more demand.
“Young lady, I also need you to go to the north tower. Go to the top floor and bring me the woman there. Tell her monsters are coming.”
CHAPTER 4
“May!”
Borimar called to his partner, eager to get on the road. May stood at the bar, confusion setting across her face, as she stared at her dwarf friend. The dwarf made it across the tavern in seconds and grabbed May by the wrist.
“Let's go. We need to get out of town.”
“Borimar, darling, slow down.”
“No time. I need to get back to Raven's Hold.”
The woman wrenched her arm free of his grasp and stood in defiance. He knew he was being difficult but she didn't understand. How could she? She wasn't there; she didn't see. The dwarf stroked his long beard a few times before speaking. The entire tavern was staring at them. Now he understood. It wasn't that he was being vague and rude; it was more the fact that he was doing it in front of all these people. Borimar cleared his throat and started over.
“May, it's important that we leave this fine establishment and get home. There be urgent business that I must discuss with me old friend.”
“You found it.” her face lit up, bringing out a rather large smile.
“I found something.” the dwarf mused.
“Alright. Give me a half hour and we can go.”
“Twenty minutes.” he offered.
“Fine. You’re in charge of the horses.”
Borimar watched his companion dance up the stairs towards their room, her brown curls bouncing as she walked. He decided to let her be happy for now. He would have to tell her the truth once they were clear of the village, of course, but for now this made it easier to get her going.
As soon as May was out of sight Borimar looked around the room and, satisfied that the patrons had all gone back to their cups and conversation, took a seat himself to order a drink.
“A pint of yer best ale, good sir.” he smiled as the barkeep poured.
The barkeep scowled at him as the ale filled the glass, probably ready for the rude little man to leave. Borimar snorted under his breath and took a long swig from his cup. A second drink later and his cup was empty. Wiping his beard with the back of his hand, he ordered another. Halfway through his third glass May appeared next to him with hands on her hips and accusation in her eyes.
“I suppose the horses are ready?” she asked.
“I was getting ta that.” he laughed. “Just needed some motivation.”
He saw May roll her eyes before she turned to the door and walked away. Finishing his glass with one more long drink the dwarf slapped some coins on the bar and hopped down from his stool. The barkeep picked up the coins and tried to examine them with caution.
“That there be real gold,” Borimar said, “Given to me by the king himself. I promise ye.”
The barkeep shot him a doubtful look. Borimar thought it best to leave quickly before any more trouble started. The dwarf, exited the tavern and turned left around the corner to the alley. May had the horses ready and was sitting atop hers, waiting to go.
“About time,” she joked, “I was starting to think I was going alone.”
“I had to pay the man for my drinks.”
“Did you use the real gold this time or more of the fake stuff?
“Fake, of course. Ye know I don't like to part with me gold.”
That's when he heard the doors to the tavern fly open violently and heard a man shouting. The barkeep had figured out the truth of the gold and wanted his payment, even if that meant the dwarf's head mounted on the wall behind the bar. Borimar could hear several more people moving outside and the unmistakable sound of swords coming unsheathed.
“May,” Borimar said, “I think its time we left.”
“Yes darling, I agree.”
Borimar quickly mounted his horse; they both snapped the reins and the horses took off. He could hear the men of the tavern yelling for his head as they rode off. Ordinarily Borimar liked a good fight, but after what he had witnessed with Thomas, he just wanted to get home. Back to the confines of Raven's Hold and the protection of the city guards. Back where it was safe.
****
Once the duo was a few miles outside of the village, May slowed her pace and Borimar pulled along side her.
“Why are we slowing down?” he asked.
“You need to explain yourself,” she said, “Back at the tavern you said you found something. I take it that something doesn't mean the amulet.”
The dwarf put his head down and sighed. He knew how stubborn she was and that there was no way she was going to drop the subject until he explained himself. He had surmised years ago that she was as stubborn as she was because she was an islander. Everyone he had ever met from the islands was hardheaded and bossy. She was a lot like her mother, a fact that wasn’t lost on either of them.
Actually that was part of the reason he brought her on as a partner. Borimar sighed again. He looked over at May's sparkling green eyes and held back a frown.
“The amulet wasn't there,” he began, “Something, no...Someone, was there waiting for us.”
“Another treasure hunter?”
“Not exactly.” he stalled.
“You’re not making any sense. You say someone else but if not a treasure hunter than what were they?”
The dwarf considered for a moment, thought better of lying, and told her the truth.
“She was a vampyre.”
May bit back a laugh but could not sustain it for long. She looked at the dwarf and the laugh tumbled out. Small giggles at first, but soon rising to full fledged belly laughs. May could not help herself. Borimar growled disapproval at her reaction and balled his fists. He hated being mocked, especially from someone who was supposed to be his partner, his friend.
“Ye think I'm lyin?” Borimar snorted.
“Vampyres...really...?” May breathed between laughs.
“Its not a joke, woman. This...thing...” he found
it hard to call the vampyre a woman.
May saw the concern and fear on his face and her laughter grew less and less until she was barely laughing at all. Borimar was turning away from her when he felt her warm almond skinned hand on his shoulder. She let her hand linger there until he finally turned back around.
She remained quiet, trying hard to wipe away the laughter and show her concern. The look on her face was a mix of amusement and support for her friend. He was finding it difficult to stay upset with her.
“I have spent the last forty-five years surrounded by killers, liars, and death. The eighty-five before that I was lucky enough to be in Mythryl.” Borimar stroked his beard and looked his companion in the eyes, “I have seen vampyre before. This thing though, it looked like a woman and talked like a woman, but what it did was…horrifying. I’m no coward, but from this thing…I ran.”
All traces of humor faded from May’s face as she listened. She had never known him to get this emotional over anything, not even his ale. Whatever happened to him must have been truly terrifying. She nodded for him to continue.
“This thing moved faster than I could blink. I ain’t ever seen anything move so fast. And the way it ripped that poor bastard apart, it was like a wild animal. Then there were the eyes. They were like looking into a deep dark hell.”
“What did it say to you?” May asked.
“It was after the amulet. It wants me to find it. If I can't…it said it would kill me.”
Both rode on in silence. Borimar could not stomach any more explanation. Finally, May put a hand on the dwarf's shoulder and looked into his hard gray eyes.
“I am sorry, my friend. I cannot possibly understand what you went through, but you have my help. What’s our next step?”
“We get our asses to Raven's Hold,” the dwarf commanded, “We need help and there is only one person I can think of with the power and resources to do so. We need to go see Markus.”
CHAPTER 5
A young girl was startled awake by the shrill sound of a woman screaming, piercing through her good dreams to awaken her. The young girl shot upright in her bed, covers drawn up to her face, and eyes darted back and forth around the room. The scream became two, then three, growing more numerous as the seconds flew by.
The young girl could have sworn she recognized a few of them as the house servants, Nathaniel and Jenn, whom she knew very well. They were the ones who dressed her and watched over her on a daily basis. Whatever was going on, she knew she did not want to be involved.
A heavy thud at her bedchamber door made her jump. She pulled the covers up a little more to her nose. The screams continued and she swore she could smell smoke coming from the hall. She heard another heavy thud, this time against the door across the hall. Just as she thought about making a run for the window her bedchamber door flew open, smacking into the wall and splintering as it hit.
Standing in the doorway was a tall figure that even in the dark of night the girl recognized as her father.
“Father,” she yelled, “What is happening?”
Her father made a hasty advance to his daughter’s bedside. She could see that things were bad from the look in his eyes. She could always read him that way. Tonight his eyes were alert, scared. She felt her heart sink.
“We must leave, my princess,” he said, his eyes scanning the room as he spoke, “It is not safe for you here anymore.”
“What is going on father? What are all those screams?” The girl looked at her father. Her face was swimming in fear.
“We are under attack,” he said, “We are being overrun by monsters.”
The girl stole a glance at the two bodies lying in the hall. It was too dark to see details or even colors without a lantern burning, but she could see that they both appeared to be human. It was not unusual for humans to be in the Elven kingdoms. They were allies. Her father had traded with humans for many years. Why would he now call them monsters?
“Who are they?” the young princess asked, pointing to the corpses in the hall, “They look like people to me.”
She trembled as her father held her by both shoulders and tried to explain to her what was happening.
“Those are not men…not anymore. They are vampyres.”
“Like in the stories?” She asked.
“They are no story, my child. They are very real and very dangerous. They mean to slaughter everyone in the castle tonight. That is why I must get you out. I will not see my only daughter slaughtered…or worse.”
“What is worse than being killed, father?” She asked. Tears began to well up around her eyes. She was trying to remain strong for her father.
Her father looked her in the eyes as he spoke. For a moment the wildness subsided and she saw only fear and compassion. In all her sixteen years she had never seen her father so scared.
“The worst thing, even worse than death itself, my child?” the young princess nodded. Her father looked back at the hall then shook her.
“Being made into one of them!”
Cora awoke, covered in sweat, with tears running down her cheeks. This particular dream of her father had been reoccurring the past few nights. This was one of the issues she had gone to talk to Father Jessop about. It felt like something from her past, but Cora could not actually remember it. It only came to her in her dreams.
Noticing the sun had finally gone down, Cora wiped away the tears and began walking west. She still had to get to Hillside Glenn and meet up with the man Father Jessop mentioned in his letter.
****
Darkness had only fallen a few hours ago but already Cora was making great time. There was a rumor that vampyres were supposed to be able to move super fast, fast enough for her to get to Hillside Glenn in moments. Cora had heard many stories about vampyres over the years and had been able to prove or disprove many of them.
The running thing she would have to put in the disprove column because after almost one hundred years she had yet to be able to run faster than a running horse. Besides, this way was more fun.
Cora saw the familiar welcoming archway of Hillside Glenn that shone bright in the moonlight. She had known this place to be a trade town. Day or night, whether with deals going on or prostitutes about, there was always activity in the streets.
Tonight, however, Cora found it quiet. She noticed no one in the streets, no lights in any of the windows, and no sounds. Well, Almost no sounds.
There was a faint moan coming from her left. It was difficult to tell how far away it was but she could follow it to its source. Slow, and with caution, Cora walked in the direction of the moaning. She passed a few homes and came to Main Street, where she could see The Cobblestone Inn and The Broken Lace tavern. Both locations had no lights on and seemed to be deserted. Dark splashes covered the wooden sidewalk in front of The Broken Lace. Cora’s vampyre nose told her it was blood.
The moaning sound she heard seemed to be coming from inside the inn, however. Cora's defenses went into alert; her fangs popped out and she crouched down as she walked. If there were something in there that meant to harm her, she would be ready. Usually she could sense whether or not she was dealing with a human, something she learned after being turned. Tonight, though, she could feel nothing.
Cora opened the door to the inn and cautiously stepped inside, careful to leave the door open. As soon as she was in she noticed the dead body in the corner to her left. It was slumped down against the wall next to the reception desk. There was a strong odor of decay coming from the corpse.
The female had been dead for some time given the paleness of her skin and the smell. The poor woman could not have been more than twenty-five. She had large chunks missing from her arms and throat as well as an arrow stuck through the heart. Along the missing pieces, Cora saw teeth marks. The blood had long since dried up and the flesh had started to rot.
“What could have done this?” Cora said aloud.
She checked around the inside of the reception desk to look for more bodies, and
the moaning that had grown louder when she entered. Behind the desk, on the floor, was a second body. This one, male, was dressed in the garments of an innkeeper and seemed to be untouched, except for his missing left arm. He too, was beginning to decay and smell.
Both of the humans she found had been dead for several days and looked as if they had been attacked by something quite strong and very hungry.
Something evil had come to Hillside Glenn and killed its inhabitants, all but whoever was making that moaning sound. Exiting the reception desk, Cora crept up the stairs to the second floor, careful to make as little sound as possible.
Partway up the stairs she heard the moaning again. This time it was even louder. She heard it again as she reached the top step and from here she could tell that it was coming from the first room to her left.
The room was dark and stank of rot and decay. Her heightened sense of smell only amplified this, causing her to hesitate as she entered. She entered the room and looked around.
Her amplified sense of smell may have worked against her when she entered, but now her ability to see in the dark was making up for it. Right away she saw the overturned bed and knew that what, or who, she was looking for must be behind it.
“Hello,” Cora called out, “Is someone there?”
No one answered.
She made her way towards the bed, careful once again to be quiet. Just before she was close enough to see around the bed, she heard a pained voice.
“Get out of here...” said the voice, “Not safe…”
Cora, not ready to turn tail and run as the voice demanded, moved around the bed to get a better look at who was talking. Leaning against the bed, in a pool of his own blood, was a man dressed in the robes of a priest.
The priest was slumped to his left from a missing arm and he had bite marks on his neck and right arm. His robes were torn and a large clump of his wavy brown hair was missing.
Cora saw the pain in his eyes and felt a small pang of grief for him. She was reminded of Father Jessop, which caused tears to well up around her eyes. The priest reached for Cora with his one good arm but quickly lost his strength and his arm dropped lifelessly to his side.