Tasaria, her face the color of ash, nodded.
“Good. Now stay with Shy.”
Head bowed and shoulders slumped, the Gypsy girl shuffled away.
“That was a little harsh,” Xia said in a low voice as she came to his side.
“Probably,” Max admitted after a moment of thought. “But it may have saved her life. I was serious when I said that there are things out here that would pop her in the cookpot.” He chuckled as he watched Shy chew out the girl on the other side of the fire. “As soon as Shy finishes tearing a strip from the girl, I’ll take care of the language part for all of you.”
Xia stowed her helmet and looked around. “This a very strange world, Maximilian.” She studied the knees of the soldiers dressed straight out of Earth antiquity.
Max laughed, turning heads in their direction. “Oh, Xia, you ain’t seen nuttin’ yet.” When he saw Tasaria walk away from Shy, tear streaked and looking at the ground, he waved a hand. “If you’d all listen up!” he called. “I’d like you all to come over here and make a semicircle facing me.” He added gently, “Tasaria, that includes you too. Like it or not, you are a member of the team now.”
Something like a smile tugged at her lips.
Max watched the men and women. “Good. Now stand very still and watch me.” His forefinger traced a complex silvery runespell in the air before him. “Inspiratio!” The symbol flared brightly before fading.
The colonel, who was standing to his rear, gasped. “You’re a mage!”
The faces of the team reflected their surprise at suddenly being able to understand the officer.
“Actually,” Tasaria piped up... it almost had to be Tasaria. “He’s a—”
Fists clenched, Max whirled to face the young woman. She froze, mouth open. Max knew that his eyes were glowing red.
“When I want any shit from you, young lady, I’ll squeeze your head. Now be quiet.”
Nodding, Tasaria backed up, directly into Shy, who looked as angry as Max felt. The Gypsy girl shut her eyes.
The colonel gave Max a speculative look. “He’s a… I wonder what that could be.”
Max turned back to the officer, staring at him with glowing eyes. The colonel took a rapid step back, then another. “I am a vampire, Colonel.” Max’s voice sounded as if it had just echoed up out of a sepulcher. “The simple solution to this problem is that I bite you and then force you to do my bidding.”
The pale colonel swallowed.
“Since I’ve already eaten, I’d prefer another solution.”
“You already admitted you are an earl, and I don’t plan on announcing that, either. I guarantee that neither I, nor my men, will speak of this.”
“If I find that you have,” Max said coldly, “I will return and kill you all… myself.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned back to the team. “All right. You can all understand and speak the language. We should get ready for our next jump. As I said before, we will be going to Sloobork eventually. This jump will take us to within two leagues of our destination. We can make a hot meal, and then, after hiding the gear, we will walk the rest of the way.”
“Do ya expect trouble, boss?” Moses asked, reaching up to don his helmet. In Max’s own helmet, the Heads-Up Display, the HUD, flickered to show that Moses Mackey was online. The green caret around the man’s name indicated all systems as well as biosensors were normal.
“The name of this world is Aeyaqar,” Max replied, “and in my book, that translates as trouble. Just be ready.”
Moses reached down to unsnap the holster of his Heckler and Koch accelerator pistol. Only slightly larger than the stockless HK 416, the 897a, affectionately nicknamed the mag-lev, magnetically accelerated a sliver of depleted uranium to a large fraction of the speed of light. Each magazine held one thousand slivers, and Max had stocked eight cases of ten magazines, along with spare batteries and a solar charger. Mérilla Jalbert had also opted for the HK 897a, while the oddball of the group, Casey, preferred a FNX .45 Tactical with suppressor. Xia used the Advance-Tech T215, ball-lightning gun. With twice the hitting power of the FNX .45 and nearly the same as the HK, it was a lighter weapon. Most importantly, it was rechargeable. It was, however, a high-tech weapon, more susceptible to high-tech breakdowns. For this eventuality, Xia kept a Sig Sauer P229, .357 caliber, in a holster at the small of her back. When on the day of their departure Xia had shown up with Max’s old Colt 1911 Government, in .45 ACP—the same gun he’d used in Việt Nam and in subsequent missions about the world—he hadn’t asked any questions, like how she’d managed to get it out of his gun safe in the mountains of North Carolina. A grinning Azzaam had gifted Max with a one-thousand-round brick of hollow-point .45 ACP tactical ammunition, already packaged in a waterproof fiberglass travel case. Now the weight of the gun felt reassuring on his hip. He felt vaguely sorry for any goblins that might consider the handful of humans fair game.
“Same order, boss?” Moses asked, taking position slightly ahead of the stationary tug.
“You and I will go first,” Max replied, thinking quickly. “Followed by Xia, Shy, and Tasaria. The tug can come next, and then Mérilla and Casey bringing up the rear. I don’t want to lose the tug at this point in time.”
Moses nodded, and Max looked back at the loose line of people and equipment.
“Let’s go.” He turned back, drawing the traveling runespell while focusing the destination firmly in his mind. He whispered, “Inspiratio,” and the gateway shimmered open, then Max stepped through.
The group sat around the fire, enjoying the chance to relax and eat a warm bowl of stew. Max withdrew into the woods, where he discreetly ripped open the half-liter bag of A-positive blood and had his own lunch. It had, he was curious to note, a vaguely plastic taste mixed with coppery blood, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. He drained the bag in one long pull, relishing the rush of vitality that washed through him. It had been a very long day, and opening gateways and casting runespells was exhausting work. Folding the empty bag, he stuffed it in a pocket, remembering the old adage: pack it in… pack it out.
Shy looked up as he entered the ring of firelight. “Have a good lunch?” she asked with no hint of malice.
“Adequate,” he replied without going into detail.
Smiling, she casually touched her chin with one long finger, and Max quickly wiped a drop of blood on his own chin.
“Thank you,” he murmured as the others looked away. “Is the tug hidden, Casey?”
“Yup.” The man, casually sprawled beside the fire, grinned. “Moses and I parked the tug in a small cave we found, manhandled a rock across the entrance, and covered it with limbs and leaves. The cave looks like any other part of the hill now.”
“Good.” He looked at the sprawled men and women. “Time to go,” he said without raising his voice.
The others got to their feet with a chorus of groans.
Xia raised an eyebrow. “The fire?” she asked, glancing at the crackling blaze.
Max winked, drew a quick runespell, and voiced adaquo, the word for water. The fire suddenly hissed and died in a cloud of steam. Max traced another rune, murmuring another word, and the remains of the steaming fire slowly sank into the ground. When the motion ended, Max couldn’t tell that anyone had stopped there for a meal.
Xia gave him a flat look. “Show-off.”
“Fine. You have point.” He jabbed his index finger toward the nearby woods. “You will find a trail about a kilometer that way. Turn north, and the trail will bring us to Sloobork.” When she raised an eyebrow, he pointed again. “North is that-a-way.”
She nodded and left at a loping jog.
The team found Xia thirty minutes later, leaning on a pine tree at the side of the trail. Her face was grim. “There have been a lot of feet on this trail,” she said as Max approached, “a
nd very recently. Only some of them human. I followed them for a little way to the south, and they just stopped, like they stepped into one of your gateways.”
“Damn! Well, lead us into Sloobork, Xia, but be careful.”
The face of her helmet turned the same camo color as her suit, and Max knew that she was checking her sensors before she headed out.
He turned to the rest of the group. “We may be walking into trouble, so be ready.” He turned his armored face to Shy and Tasaria. “Noncombatants will do as I tell you. I wouldn’t want you killed by one of the beasties on this world or by friendly fire when you go where you’re not supposed to go. Do you understand?” His voice was grim, and both Shy and Tasaria nodded without hesitation.
The smell of smoke alerted Max to trouble, and was often the harbinger of disaster. The first body they found, lying in the dusty alley, was a guardsman from the Sloobork militia. A rusty goblin blade was still wedged in the man’s cuirass, the rusty point sticking out his back, flies gathering on the pool of dark blood that had formed where the man fell. The second body was a large goblin, his right arm and shoulder burned off, Max guessed by a fireball. Turning the corner onto the main street, Max stopped counting. Bodies were sprawled everywhere, and the smell of blood and death was thick in the air. He flipped on the air filtering system in his suit.
Guardsmen and goblins, mages in different-colored robes, and squat, misshapen creatures with long tusks projecting up from the lower jaw were scattered among men, women, and the strewn bodies of children. Many of the bodies had been… chewed. From the back of the team, he heard a small whimper and turned to glare at a white-faced Tasaria. Slowly, he placed his finger on his lips, and the girl sniffed once and nodded. In his forty years in the military, Sloobork was the worst he had ever seen, and if truth be told, a small part of him wanted to whimper. The rest of him wanted payback for the atrocity. Max made two quick hand motions, and Xia and Moses cut right and left, disappearing down side streets, while he and the rest continued straight.
There was a crackle on the tactical channel, and Xia’s strained voice spoke. “There are survivors on the street to your left. They appear to have an emergency triage set up at a town square to care for the wounded.”
“We’ll be there shortly. You and Moses pair up and do a sweep of the city. Make sure all the guests are gone. Moses, did you copy?”
“Copy, boss,” the deep voice rumbled.
“Xia, when you’re done, I’d like you to take over watch. Your Advance-Tech pistol has the best digital sights of anything, save the long gun.”
“Can do,” Xia replied. “I’ll be up in that mosque-looking building.”
“Acknowledged.”
Max vaguely remembered the tall marble statue in the central square, with the form of a robed mage standing on a white pedestal, his hand raised in benediction, a loving smile on his face. A goblin sword had hacked off the raised arm, and the cold visage looked down sadly on what remained of his people.
When a woman screamed, pointing to the approaching team, Max quickly reached up and retracted his helmet. The screaming stopped, but the woman watched apprehensively as the strangers drew nearer.
The youth treating her, a young acolyte in bloodied blue robes, looked up and, recognizing Max’s face, smiled wanly. “Well met, my lord,” he said in a ragged voice.
The smell of smoke and burning meat caught in Max’s throat, and he longed to activate his helmet. Reaching down, he touched the young man’s shoulder, smiling as warmly as he could. “Hello, Derek,” he said to the man in the ripped and soiled azure robe. He’d only met the acolyte once before, in the temple in Sloobork. “I’m glad to see that you survived.” He glanced around the square and wasn’t surprised to see few soldiers among the wounded. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“They came in the dark, at the first hour past midnight,” the assistant mage murmured. “There was no warning.”
“Who were they? Do you know?” Max asked.
“There were a few troops of the supreme governor,” Derek replied. “I recognize the distinctive armor.” Reaching out, he took Max’s arm in a fierce grip. “They had a chained vampire with them that they were forcing to open gateways. Battle mages were pointing out vampires and mages for capture or destruction. Then came the goblins and yrch. We never had a chance.” The young man’s shoulders shook as he buried his face in his hands. He sniffed after a moment then wiped his nose on his sleeve. “The less injured moved deeper into the mountains, but I’d guess nearly half were killed or taken. After the prisoners were taken, the looting began.”
Max turned to the team. “Distribute what medicine we can spare.” He looked up as Moses appeared from a side street. “How does it look?”
“Clear, for the moment, boss. Xia is on overwatch.”
“Fine.” He glanced at the wounded that surrounded them. “Help around here as best you can.” Moses nodded as Max turned to Derek. “Which way did the survivors go?”
The youth pointed to a distant snow-covered peak. “Below Pleqirst Summit, on this side, lie a sheltered valley and a rude village. There is a large clan hall there where the regional clans hold enclave every year. It is large enough to hold the refugees.”
Max looked over the battered people. “Is there anyone here that can open a gateway?”
“No, my lord. The evil mages took away all who held even the smallest amount of the power.” He looked up with red eyes. “I had been buried under debris, and they never found me, but my power is insufficient to open a gateway.”
Max sighed. “Very well. I’ll have to do it myself, the hard way.” He gave Shy a direct look and crooked a finger. He was smiling as she approached. “We’re going for another walk, my dear.” When he pointed at the distant mountain, Shy groaned.
And they ran and ran and ran. After ten leagues, they stopped to rest for a moment, and Max took the opportunity to run down and kill a mountain wolf, eating as much as he could hold raw before washing up in a gurgling mountain brook. Signs of the fleeing refugees were all around them: bits of bloody cloth from a wound, a dropped trinket… a child’s doll. Shy didn’t complain but put her head down and ran harder.
A sentry at the village was half asleep as they stepped out of the woods, their active camouflage making them effectively invisible. When Max touched his shoulder, the man jumped and reached for his sword… which was in Max’s hand.
“Take it easy, neighbor,” Max said calmly. “We’re not here to hurt you.”
“Who… what are you?”
“I’m a vampire,” Max said matter-of-factly. “I was working with grand master mage Oewaelle a few weeks ago.” He nodded to Shyilia. “I arrived with this young lady.”
The man blinked. “I remember you now.” He shook his head. “So much has happened since then, it seems.”
Max grinned mirthlessly. “More is about to happen. I’m going to open a gateway to Sloobork and bring your wounded here for the care they need.”
“Will you be staying to help us?” the man asked hopefully.
“Sorry,” Max replied gently. “My team are soldiers, and our forte isn’t healing.” He turned to Shy. “Stay here. I’ll open the gateway and start moving the wounded out of Sloobork.”
Shy nodded dully, a look of exhaustion on her face.
Max turned back to the sentry. “You should probably go get some stretcher bearers lined up… now!” He finished with a snap.
The man left in a shot, running toward the clan hall with his head down, arms and legs pumping furiously. Max took a deep breath and began formulating the complex runespell. “I’ll be back in a while,” he said over his shoulder then stepped through his gateway.
It took two hours to transfer all the wounded from Sloobork to the clan hall, and when Max finally let the gateway collapse, he was staggering with wearine
ss.
Xia caught him with an arm about his waist. “You never did know when to stop, Maximilian,” she said softly. “That hasn’t changed, I see.”
He stumbled and felt her arm tighten. “The people here are as safe as I can make them. Now I can sleep.”
Xia gave him a long, unreadable look. “Do you… do you need something to drink?” she asked with more than a little hesitation.
Max took three more steps before what she’d said sank in, then he stopped abruptly and turned to face her.
She looked at him calmly with her sapphire eyes.
“I… I don’t dare.”
“Don’t be an idiot, Maximilian. A sip of my blood will refresh you, and sleep will do the rest. We’re counting on you, and you have to be in top shape. Giving you a single drink won’t make me a slave, will it?”
Max chuckled. “No. You would also have to consume a small quantity of my blood for that to happen, as well as a few other things.” He gave her a studied look. “Although, now that I think of it…” He couldn’t help the smile that stole over his face.
“Never mind that.” Her smile suddenly smoldered. “We can speak of who will be a slave to who at another time—in another place.” She gave him a direct look. “So… to bite or not to bite—that is the question.”
Max gave in on a number of levels. “To bite,” he replied, smiling.
Taking his hand, Xia led him into the shadowed side of the clan hall and removed her bulky armor. Popping the clamshell halves open, she casually dropped it on the ground. Watching Max’s face, she slowly unbuttoned the top three buttons of her chameleon suit, pulling the collar open to give Max access to her smooth neck and exposing the upper curve of her rounded breasts. Xia had never needed a bra as far as Max could see. His vampiric senses suddenly caught the floral fragrance of her perfume and the headier scent of woman. As he bent to kiss her, her arms went about his neck, drawing him closer. Her lips were soft and hot, just as he remembered from so long ago, and her tongue playful. She moaned softly as he drew her to him in a rough embrace. After nibbling gently on her earlobe, Max moved on to her warm neck. Stopping at the curved juncture of neck and shoulder, he carefully avoided the carotid artery, and slowly, sensuously licked her skin. Xia gasped. Then, letting his fangs distend, he bit. Xia hissed in surprise and pulled him closer yet, panting in his ear. After drinking what he judged to be no more than a quarter liter, Max tried to pull away. Xia clung to him, and he could feel her trembling. At least he thought it was her who was trembling.
Destiny of the Vampire Page 12