by Kallysten
Picking up the phone on the wall, Wilhelm dialed the headquarters’ number.
“What are your orders, sir?”
He didn’t bother with civilities. The soldier who had answered knew who was on the line, just as he knew Wilhelm wouldn’t have bothered calling if he did not need something.
“Prepare a map with the locations where the bodies were found. See if you can pinpoint where they were last seen alive, too. And send MPs to question people near those points, see if anyone noticed new neighbors.”
The request was a routine one, and the soldier did not ask for clarifications. Wilhelm hung up the phone and returned to his study of the bleak numbers.
The next lines identified the vampires that had been killed during the skirmishes with demons the previous night. These numbers were never as high as the ones on the second sheet of paper, which were human members of the Guard killed or seriously injured, but added together they always weakened the town’s defenses too much for comfort.
Already thinking about where he would start his search that night, he abandoned the grim reports and his half finished glass in the kitchen and went to lie on the battered sofa. Books were piled up just within arm’s reach and he picked one up at random. He had read each book in these untidy piles dozens of times and could recite parts of each from memory. This familiarity was exactly what he needed at that moment. With his mind filled with numbers and death, the flow of words would stop him from thinking for a little while, and maybe even stop him from wondering if the fight was hopeless.
He couldn’t have said how much time had passed when a sharp knock on the door startled him out of his reading. No one ever visited him, not even Bergsen, and if they needed him to go to the headquarters because of an emergency, they always called him.
His surprise only increased when he opened the door to find a glowering Ariadne behind it.
“You had no right to do that!” she began without warning. “I’ve wanted to fight with the Guard for six years, and with just a few words you robbed me of that!”
Her eyes were blazing with the same fire they had held when she had come to ask for his support almost two years earlier. The difference was that now she was tall enough to look straight into his eyes. Every time he saw her, it became more difficult to remember the young girl he had once found alone in a graveyard.
“I don’t know what—” he started, but a snort interrupted him.
“Don’t insult me on top of it.”
The anger in her gaze only strengthened, and Wilhelm gave a small nod, acknowledging it.
“See,” she started again, “the problem with putting me behind a desk is that it gives me access to my own file. And to the letter, signed by you and countersigned by Commander Bergsen, that requested this assignment for me. What happened to assignments in the Guard being decided at random?”
The initial outburst had calmed, but her voice was more compelling for it, her righteous anger giving it weight. Wilhelm had never seen her like this. He had seen her afraid, distressed, pouting, even happy, but never truly angry, and she seemed like an entirely different person in front of him. It made him realize that, even though he had kept a close eye on her over the years, making sure she was safe, then following her progress when she had joined the Cadets, he had no idea who the young woman in front of him was. All he knew was that her name was Ariadne, and he had pledged to himself to do his best to keep her alive.
“Come in,” he said, shaking himself out of his torpor, and stepped back to give her room to do so.
She frowned at him but walked in, taking a few steps inside the small apartment and looking around her with undisguised curiosity. Wilhelm wondered briefly what she thought, whether she had expected grander accommodations than what she saw, but she didn’t say anything and her face, when she turned to look at him, showed nothing but impatience.
Walking past her, he went to the kitchenette and picked up one of the reports he had been looking at earlier.
“Here,” he said, giving her the paper. “Look at those.”
She took the sheet, and Wilhelm watched as she scanned it. Her eyes tightened ever so slightly, even as she pinched her lips into a tight line.
“Some of these people were my friends,” she said, her voice raspy, when she looked up at him again. “But it doesn’t explain why you confined me to an office when I’ve trained for two years to be on the battlefront.”
“You’re stuck in an office so you won’t end up on this list. That’s all there is to it.”
She blinked once, and her eyes widened in incredulity that soon transformed into indignation and anger.
“How dare you! You have no right… I can’t believe you’d even think you can play with my life like that!”
“I’m not playing, Ariadne. I couldn’t be more serious. I told you before that I didn’t want you to join the Cadets, and I feel the same about the Guard.”
Her hand was shaking when she thrust the sheet of paper back at him.
“Too late for that. I’m in. And I’m not going anywhere, except to the front. And how well do you think I’ll fight when we have a big attack and they call everyone to help? Do you think I’ll still be able to fight, after spending my time seated behind a desk?”
For a moment, Wilhelm faltered; he had not thought of that possibility. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it.
“I’ll leak the papers to the entire Guard,” Ariadne continued when he didn’t answer. “If you don’t change my assignment, I’ll let everyone know, and no one will ever obey your orders again without thinking twice about the way you show favoritism. Because you know that’s how they’ll interpret it.”
Wilhelm’s resolution hardened again. Couldn’t she see he was trying to save her life?
“Threatening a superior is hardly the right way to have a long career in the Guard, child.”
The edge of her smile could have sliced his throat. “You’re not my superior. You don’t even have a rank. You’re just a man who thinks he knows better than the rest of us, and who ignores anyone he doesn’t have a use for. But I am part of the Guard, I earned my rank and the right to fight, and while you can ignore me all you want, you can’t take that away from me.”
There was a final challenge in her wavering voice and eyes—a final reproach—and then she saluted him, her posture perfect, before she turned on her heel and walked out of the apartment. The door banged shut behind her.
After her parting words, Wilhelm was left to wonder what she had been most upset about—that he had arranged for her to have an office job, or that he hadn’t said a word to her since he had, despite passing by her desk every day.
* * * *
My threats, as he called them, did not change Will’s mind. The only thing that happened was that the next time I looked at my file, the paper trail was gone. I hadn’t thought of making copies.
I appealed to Bergsen, but with no result. He gave me a speech about how all assignments were equally honorable, and how others envied me, but he refused to let these others, whoever they might have been, trade their places with me.
That only left me one option.
All the members of the Guard who have office duty volunteer to take turns standing guard over the walls, usually one to two nights a month. It’s a way to refresh their training in between active assignments. I started showing up there every night. I would finish my shift at the headquarters, go to the mess for a quick dinner, then change into combat uniform and be on my way. Every night, I made sure I reported directly to the commanding officer and gave him or her my name and official assignment. It wasn’t long before they all knew me—and not much longer after that before they started muttering that my current assignment was a waste of my training.
Will showed up on the third night. He didn’t look surprised to see me there, so I’m pretty sure he knew what I was doing. He stayed around all night, and came back every night after that. I know he was watching me. No, more than that, he was maki
ng sure I was safe. We were attacked fourteen times during the five weeks I spent pulling a double shift every night. And fourteen times, when I fought, Will was by my side. It was easy to get used to it, and even easier, when it stopped, to miss him.
I managed to fight well enough during this time to earn praises from all the commanding officers. And during the same time, I slacked off shamelessly during the day, sometimes even falling asleep at my desk. The other soldiers at headquarters knew what I was doing, and they picked up whatever duties I wasn’t completing; it was their way to show that they supported my silent protest. Most of them had been taken away from the front lines after being wounded, or because they were deemed too old. None of them liked it any better than I did.
One morning—I remember I had fought my hardest battle yet that night, and had cuts and bruises all over my body to show for it—when I arrived at headquarters, I found a huge bouquet of white roses on my desk. I was curious, of course, but also a little uncomfortable; I was as superstitious as any other Guard, and roses this color were said to be a bad omen.
The blossoms were still tight, barely opening their soft petals to the world, but the scent was already heady. An envelope was nudged between two flowers. Inside it, I found a new assignment sheet; I was to report to the walls that same night. I also found a handwritten note, signed simply with a ‘W’.
The elegant cursive letters gave a short message that I never forgot.
“Hopefully those are the only white roses I’ll have to buy for you for a very long time.”
Wilhelm walked by, that day, on his way to see Bergsen. I tried to thank him, but all he did was shake his head in reply.
I reported to my new duties later that night, more excited than ever and ready to take the entire demon army by myself. That’s when I met Lorenzo.
Chapter 5
Hung high in the cloudless sky, the moon shone bright, casting a cold light over the plain. To Wilhelm and to all the vampires standing over the walls, everything seemed as bright as it was by daylight. It was the same for demons, of course. The Guard had known the attack would come ever since the weather forecast had warned of a beautiful night.
The first wave came from the north just after midnight. It took the demons a little more than four hours to trot down from the mountain. The trip did not even begin to tire them. The Guard's best archers greeted them with its traditional volley of arrows. A few demons fell; the rest of them marched on without slowing for an instant. They would reach the walls quickly, if they weren't stopped. The Guard would stop them—it had to.
Behind the walls, the first three streets had been evacuated. Wilhelm and Bergsen had argued about it again. Civilians had long since tired of the repeated evacuations, and it was more difficult each time to get their cooperation. Bergsen wanted to permanently evacuate these streets and declare them too dangerous for anyone to be there after nightfall; every time he raised the issue, Wilhelm predicted that such a decision would wreak havoc on the city. Each house, each apartment within the walls was already packed, and demanding that two hundred families leave their homes to live with strangers was asking for trouble.
Wilhelm was standing on the front line when the Guard clashed with the demon army. Five years earlier, Bergsen had stood at the front of the fight next to him, leading his troops through example. But age had caught up with him, and now he watched the battles from the walls. Wilhelm couldn't even stand the idea of not being part of the fight.
Within moments, his sword had sliced a first demon open from the shoulder straight down to the thick of the belly. Blood erupted, so dark it seemed black, its scent already thick in the night air. Wilhelm felt his fangs elongate, and instinct spurred him on. He did not wait for the demon to finish falling to the ground before he moved on to his next prey. He had fought demons, first on his own and eventually with the Guard for close to thirty years, and habit and training always took over as soon as the battle started. He remained completely aware of his surroundings—he couldn't afford not to be—but he also swung his sword, parried and moved through the crowd of demons, vampires and humans without ever hesitating.
The Guard was superior in numbers to the army of demons, but not all fighters were as adept with a sword or axe as Wilhelm was; few of them had even a tenth of his experience. It often took two or three soldiers to take down a single demon, so most soldiers worked in pairs or small groups, defending each other's back as they focused on individual demons.
In the past few months, during each battle Wilhelm had found his attention and his steps always drifting back toward one such pair of fighters. The woman was barely past eighteen; still a child, even if she had cut the long auburn hair that had danced free on her shoulders during all her childhood. Next to her, her partner was almost a full head taller than she was, and he moved with the sleek grace of a predator. Whenever Lorenzo caught his gaze, in the middle of the fight, it was to give him an eye roll that said quite plainly what he thought of Wilhelm's game. Ariadne, on the other hand, always pretended not to notice. She was a terrible liar.
In truth, they did not need Wilhelm's help. The girl had been born to carry a sword, and Lorenzo made up for what he lacked in experience with his vampire speed and strength. Together, they managed to carve a path through demons and remain, most of the time, unscathed. When blood was shed, it was always Lorenzo's; he never hesitated before putting himself between Ariadne and a demon's blade.
Wilhelm had accepted that he couldn't prevent Ariadne to fight, but he still didn't like to see her so close to danger. It might have helped if he had been the one keeping her safe, as he had promised himself he would when he had first met her as a child. Whenever he saw them exchange one of those silly grins they shared after a kill, Wilhelm found himself gritting his teeth and handling his sword with more vigor. They were too close, much too close. It was unwise for Guard members to become romantically involved as these two had. Unwise, and technically against the rules, even if they were not enforced.
The battle, this night, lasted just over an hour. The deep sound of a horn rang over the plain, and at once the demons retreated. There were few cheers from the Guard to herald this victory. They all knew that the demons would be back, the next night or the one after that, and this time with reinforcements. It wasn't time to celebrate; rather, it was time to heal, mourn, rest, and prepare for the next battle.
As he made his way back to the walls and the slowly opening doors that would allow him and the rest of the fighters back inside the city, Wilhelm was a hundred feet or so behind Ariadne and Lorenzo. They walked side by side, each with an arm around the other. Her head rested against his shoulder. Wilhelm could hear them murmur to each other, though he made no effort to understand what they were saying. If not for the sword in her hand and the axe in his, both covered in drying blood, they could have been a normal couple taking a stroll by moonlight.
Wilhelm's hand clenched on his sword's hilt and he looked around him rather than ahead. He suddenly wished the demons hadn't abandoned the battlefield so fast.
* * * *
When Lorenzo entered Bergsen's office, a small smile was playing on his lips. Wilhelm repressed a disgruntled growl. Lorenzo had no way of knowing why the Commander had summoned him, but he didn't seem worried in the slightest. Of course, if Wilhelm allowed himself to become aware of the scent wafting about the younger vampire, the reason for his smile would be blindingly obvious. Wilhelm had no desire, however, to be reminded that Ariadne and Lorenzo shared a bed, and had shared it very recently.
“Sir. Private Cambria reporting.”
It wasn't the formal address Guard recruits were taught, and Lorenzo's salute was a little sloppy. Wilhelm had never cared about either thing, but now he wanted to snap at the man to stand straighter, and not to smile like a lunatic when he was summoned by the Guard's Commander. Frowning, he settled a little deeper in his armchair and struggled to remain quiet. It was Bergsen's office, and Wilhelm was only there as an observer.
If he had been Lorenzo's Sire, he would have taught him better manners long before.
“Private Cambria. I was beginning to wonder if you would join us. I requested your presence almost half an hour ago.”
Lorenzo had the grace to look embarrassed, and his gaze left Bergsen, settling on Wilhelm for a second before he thought better of it and looked straight ahead of him at the wall behind Bergsen's desk. It might have been a trick of Wilhelm's imagination, but he seemed to be standing straighter, suddenly.
“My apologies, sir.”
Bergsen did not say a word as he stood and walked around his desk to come two steps in front of Lorenzo. Hands clasped behind him, he observed the soldier for a few moments. The smile slowly faded from Lorenzo's face under the scrutiny in a most satisfying way.
“How long have you been part of the Guard, Cambria?”
Bergsen knew the answer to that question already. Everything he needed to know was in the manila folder on his desk.
“Fifty weeks, sir.”
“Fifty weeks. You had never belonged to a military organization before that. I only need to look at your posture to know that.”
Again, Lorenzo seemed to straighten, though it was much too late by now.
“You can't salute or stand properly,” Bergsen continued. “You are slow in answering a summons from a superior. You disregard the rules that forbid romantic relationships between members of the Guard.”
Lorenzo frowned at that last reprimand and his eyes flicked toward Wilhelm before Bergsen started talking again.
“Luckily for you, none of these matters so much in the Guard. What truly matters is that you are at your post on the walls on time every night. What matters is that you have shown exemplary leadership in the little time you have been part of the Guard, and your battalion leaders commended you for it repeatedly. You are not a soldier, Private Cambria, but you're a fighter. And these days, we need fighters more than anything else.”