by Tim Waggoner
Erdis Cai’s red-tinted eyes got a far-off look in them, and Makala sensed that he was picturing this fabulous treasure, whatever it might be.
“What treasure could be so valuable that a people would create an entire hidden city to safeguard it?” she asked.
“What indeed? Come now, we mustn’t be late.”
He started toward the city, with long, purposeful strides, and Makala hurried to keep up with him.
“My crew and I discovered Grimwall during one of our earliest voyages; although if truth be told, we blundered across it after losing our way in a dense fog. Still, a discovery is a discovery, eh? Grimwall was deserted then, its occupants having long ago departed. We decided to make this our home port, and it served us well for many years. No one but myself and the crew of the Seastar knew of Grimwall’s existence, let alone its location, and that still holds true to this day.”
As they walked among the black-garbed, shaved-head citizens of Grimwall, the people stopped what they were doing and turned toward Erdis Cai, prostrating themselves on the ground as if they were in the presence of a living god. Cai paid them no notice as he passed through their ranks, as if their obeisance was not only normal and expected but also boringly routine.
“You keep speaking of your crew, but so far the only member I’ve seen is Onkar. Unless some of the raiders-”
“None of those you see around you belonged to my original crew. These are all new recruits, culled from those whom Onkar brings me, though I confess that we’ve been doing this so long that some of these people are actually the children of those we first captured. Don’t concern yourself about my former shipmates, lass. They’re still around, as you’ll soon see.”
As they continued walking through the city, Makala kept her eye out for possible escape routes, but she saw nothing that looked promising-no tunnels, no other stairwells, nothing but domed houses with semicircular doors and no windows, and everywhere she looked, bald men and women who revered the vampire walking at her side as their lord and master.
For the first time since she’d been captured, she began to hope that Diran was coming to rescue her, for it certainly looked like she wasn’t going to be able to get out of here on her own.
The domed buildings became fewer and farther between until they gave way to a large amphitheater carved into the ground. The greenfire braziers that ringed the top level of the amphitheater were larger and blazed more brightly than others in the city, no doubt to provide more light for whatever activities took place here. The circular stone seats were empty, save for one person sitting on the lowest level: Jarlain. Onkar stood on the smooth stone floor at the center of the amphitheater, holding the hollow curved horn of some large beast in his hand.
As Erdis Cai and Makala began to descend into the amphitheater, the undead explorer nodded to Onkar, and the vampire commander put the horn to his lips and blew a single long low note. He then walked over to Jarlain and waited for Erdis Cai and Makala to reach the bottom.
Makala heard noise behind them, and she glanced over her shoulder. The citizens of Grimwall were entering the amphitheater, summoned by the blast of Onkar’s horn. Obviously something important was going to take place here tonight, but what? Whatever it was, Makala doubted it would be pleasant.
Erdis Cai reached Jarlain and sat next to her. He gestured for Makala to sit on his other side, and after a moment’s hesitation, she did so. Onkar remained standing, though he set the horn down next to Jarlain, then grinned at Makala, looking at her with something too close to hunger in his eyes.
“I trust you’re enjoying your stay so far? We’ve got a bit of entertainment for you this evening. Something special.”
Erdis Cai flicked his gaze toward his former first mate, eyes glowing a brighter red, but his voice remained calm as he spoke.
“That’s enough, Onkar. We don’t want to ruin the surprise for her, do we now?”
Onkar glared sullenly at his master, as if he’d been sternly rebuked and resented it, but all he said was, “Yes, Captain.”
They sat in silence for a while after that as the amphitheater seats slowly filled. Erdis Cai’s subjects came down as far as they could, and they managed to occupy the entire bottom five rows before the last of them was seated. No one sat within twenty feet of Erdis Cai in any direction, however. While most of the citizens were men and women in the prime of their lives, there was a scattering of children and oldsters, though none of the latter appeared older than their early seventies. Makala wondered if any of them had belonged to the crew of the Seastar. Certainly they were old enough.
Onkar gave Erdis Cai a questioning look, and Cai nodded. Grinning, the vampire commander stepped into the middle of the stage area and raised his hands. The citizens had been speaking in hushed, excited whispers, but at Onkar’s signal they quieted instantly.
“People of Grimwall! Tonight you have the privilege of being present to witness your master dishing out a well-deserved dose of justice! As you no doubt know, the Black Fleet and I came home yesterday after a successful raid on Port Verge!”
Onkar paused and the citizens, who counted the Black Fleet raiders among their number, cheered. When the cheers died down, Onkar continued.
“Of those we brought back with us, five have been found to be unsuitable for one reason or another. Tonight, they will be punished for proving unworthy of serving the master!”
More cheering, this time with a decidedly bloodthirsty edge to it.
Makala had a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She remembered something Jarlain had told her.
The old washer-woman will be punished, naturally. Perhaps I made a mistake assigning the old shifter to laundry duty, but I can only choose from those whom Onkar and his crew bring me.
Makala turned to Jarlain, but the woman just looked at her and smiled.
“Let the failures come forward!” Onkar commanded.
The audience had left space for a narrow pathway on the opposite side of the amphitheater, and now two raiders began walking down, escorting five people bound with wrist manacles. Three men and two woman, one of whom was, as Makala had feared, Zabeth.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Makala tensed, ready to leap out of her seat, but Erdis Cai put an armored hand on her shoulder to keep her still.
When the raiders had marched their prisoners to Onkar, they turned and marched back. Other raiders sitting in the bottom-most row, a dozen in all, now stood. They were armed with bows, and they nocked arrows and took aim at the prisoners.
Onkar gestured at the archers as he addressed the prisoners. “As you can see, if you try to escape, the archers will fire upon you. Understand?”
The prisoners, including Zabeth, nodded miserably.
“However, Erdis Cai is not without mercy,” Onkar continued. “Your punishment shall only last a short while. When it’s done, should any of you survive, you’ll get a second chance to serve the master, but I must warn you-it’s been a while since we had anyone survive-a long while.”
Scattered laughter among the audience, mostly from the raiders in attendance.
Onkar walked up to one of the male prisoners, a reedy fellow with red hair and a thatch of beard. “Hold out your hands,” he ordered.
The man did so, the chains of his manacles jingling as he trembled. Onkar took a key out of one of his pockets and unlocked the man’s manacles. They fell to the stone floor of the amphitheater with a clang, but Onkar made no move to pick them up.
He then handed Redbeard the key. “Unlock the others.”
Blinking in confusion, the man nevertheless did as he was told, and soon the rest of the prisoners were free, their manacles joining his on the stone floor. Onkar then held out his hand. The man returned the key, and Onkar pocketed it once more.
“Stay right here,” the vampire said, then he turned and headed back toward Erdis Cai, Jarlain, and Makala.
One of the other male prisoners took a step toward Onkar’s unprotected back. The commander of th
e Black Fleet didn’t turn around as he said, “Don’t forget the archers, lad.”
The short man hesitated and glanced at the raiders standing with arrows pointed directly at him. He lowered his head, shoulders slumped in defeat. Whatever punishment awaited him and his fellow prisoners, he had no choice but to see it through one way or another.
Makala tried to catch Zabeth’s eye, if only to let the woman know she had a friend watching for whatever comfort the knowledge might provide, but if Zabeth saw her, the elderly shifter gave no indication.
Onkar sat next to Jarlain and then shouted, “Begin!”
Erdis Cai made a gesture with his hand. In response, there came a rumbling beneath their feet, and vibrations passed through the stone seats of the amphitheater. A seam opened in the stone floor running from one side to the other, neatly dividing it in two. The rumbling continued as the seam slowly widened, and Makala understood that the floor was retracting, sliding beneath the seats to reveal whatever lay underneath. The prisoners struggled to maintain their balance as the two sections of the floor slid away from each other. Three of them-the short man, Redbeard, and a petite woman who couldn’t have been more than nineteen-stood on the left side of the widening gap. Zabeth, along with a man with long braided brown hair, stood on the right.
Within seconds, the floor had pulled back enough to reveal another surface beneath, though instead of stone, this one was constructed from crisscrossing iron bars, as it were the top of a huge cage. The space between the bars looked to be four or five inches wide, small enough to stand on yet wide enough to reach through. This latter quality became readily apparent as a mottled arm thrust upward between the bars, black-clawed hand swiping at the air. The hand was soon joined by another, and another, until dozens of them raked the air. Loud hissing filled the amphitheater, as if a pit of angry vipers had been stirred up.
“You asked what happened to the rest of my former crew,” Erdis Cai said. “Now you know.”
At the sight of dozens of clawed hands reaching through the iron grating, the five prisoners ran toward the seats, realizing that the only thing standing between them and the hissing creatures was a retracting layer of stone. There was nowhere to go, for the archers stood vigilant, prepared to loose their arrows on any prisoner who came too close to freedom.
The redbearded man tried anyway. He rushed for the steps, and the nearest archer released her arrow. The shaft slammed into the man’s left shoulder, and he cried out in pain. He fell to his knees then reached up and gripped the arrow as if he intended to pull it out.
Onkar motioned to the raider who had wounded the prisoner. She nodded, lay her bow on the ground, then stepped quickly toward Redbeard. She grabbed the mans wounded arm and hauled him to his feet, eliciting a fresh howl of pain from him. She pulled him to the edge of the retracting floor and tossed him onto the iron grating. The man tried to sit up, eyes wide with terror, but before he could move, black talons tore into him and he screamed. The hands clawed furrows in his flesh, gouged out large chunks of meat, reached into red wet openings and pulled forth glistening organs. Blood rained down from the shrieking man’s mutilated body. Naked, hairless creatures with burning crimson eyes and sharp teeth fought each other to stand beneath the grisly fountain they’d created and drink. Redbeard’s screams ended, and all that could be heard was the scuffling of the savage creatures below him, and the ecstatic moaning of those lucky enough to catch some of the blood-rain on their tongues.
“The dark goddess granted undeath to all of the Seastar’s crew, but while Onkar and I became vampires, the others grew steadily more bestial and cannibalistic until I had no choice but to cage them.” Erdis Cai spoke in a casual tone, as if the slaughter taking place before him meant nothing at all. “Still, ghouls or not, they are my comrades-or were, and I make sure to take care of them. Fortunately, they still prove useful. Sometimes I wonder if this wasn’t the purpose our goddess had in mind for them all along.”
Little meat remained on Redbeard’s corpse now, and the feral ghouls began snapping off bones and pulling them down into their cage. A moment later, all that was left of the man were smears of blood on the bars, and the ghouls were already licking those clean as best they could.
The stone floor ground to a halt, leaving only two five foot sections for the surviving prisoners to stand on. All of them, including Zabeth, stood right at the edge, looking back and forth from the ghouls to the archers, unsure about what to do next.
Grinning, Onkar said, “Quit stalling-time to get your feet wet!”
The archers stepped toward the prisoners. If the raiders were worried about moving closer to the ghouls, they still continued forward. Even confronted with the archers, the prisoners still did not move, and Makala didn’t blame them. A swift death from an archers bow was far preferable to what the obscene creatures that had once been mortal sailors would do to them, but the prisoners hadn’t been brought here to receive swift, merciful deaths but rather punishment. The archers lowered their bows, reached out, and shoved the prisoners off the stone and onto the iron grating.
At least, they managed to shove three of the remaining four. Just as one of the raiders was about to push Zabeth, the elderly shifter spun around, snarling, eyes wide, fangs bared looking just as savage as any of the ghouls reaching through the grating. She grabbed the raider-a woman-by the arm and spun her off the stone edge. The woman screamed as she fell onto the interlocking bars, but she didn’t scream for long.
Zabeth, her full bestial aspect upon her now, whirled around and started loping toward the assembled citizens of Grimwall, obviously intent on making a break for it. Archers lifted their bows once more and loosed their arrows, but Zabeth managed to evade the missiles, ducking and dodging as she ran, moving with far more speed than might be expected for someone her age, even a shifter. The other prisoners, without Zabeth’s lycanthropic heritage to drawn on, were no match for the ghouls. Their deaths came swiftly, if not mercifully, their dying screams echoing through the amphitheater as Zabeth leaped onto the first ring of seats and continued running upward through the crowd.
Makala silently cheered her friend on, and she began to allow herself to hope that Zabeth might actually escape. Makala then felt a sudden breeze rush past her, and when the turned to look at Erdis Cai, she found he was gone. She looked back to Zabeth and saw that Cai now stood in her path. The shifter woman tried to veer around the vampire lord, leaping over a row of alarmed onlookers in the process. Erdis Cai didn’t seem to move. One moment he was standing with his arms at his sides, and the next he had Zabeth by the throat, holding the woman in the air as if she weighed no more than an infant. Zabeth kicked, thrashed, and clawed at Erdis Cai’s arm, but none of her exertions were enough to break the vampire’s grip.
Erdis Cai looked at Zabeth, his brow furrowed and his upper lip curled into a sneer. All he did was open his hand, but Zabeth flew backwards as if he’d flung her violently from him. The shifter woman clawed the air as if she were trying to slow her descent toward the amphitheater floor, but there were no handholds to be found in empty space, and she slammed back, first into the iron grating with the horrible sound of snapping bones. Zabeth tried to rise, but she collapsed back onto the grating, moaning in pain. All the ghouls were busy at the moment fighting over the remains of the four other prisoners and the unfortunate archer Zabeth had served up to them. Thus Zabeth wasn’t immediately attacked, but Makala knew it would only be a matter of moments before the ravenous ghouls went after her. Though shifters were known to be fast healers, there was no way Zabeth could recover in to time to avoid being dismembered and disemboweled.
Makala felt another breeze, and Erdis Cai was sitting calmly next to her again as if he’d never moved.
“It won’t be long now,” he said as if he were merely commenting on an approaching change in the weather.
Makala’s gaze fell upon an object hanging on one of the grating’s metal bars. It was a pair of manacles, one of those that the prisoners had been wea
ring when they’d first been brought in. Makala remembered Onkar freeing the prisoners from the shackles, but she realized no one had ever picked up the discarded manacles. When the floor had retracted, they’d fallen into the recessed pit below, but it seemed one pair hadn’t fallen all the way.
Without thinking, Makala leaped up from her seat and started running across the iron grating toward the manacles. She didn’t concern herself with where she placed her feet, didn’t worry if black-taloned hands would come reaching toward her from between the bars. She trusted to her instincts and training and just ran. When she drew near the manacles, she reached down without pausing and snatched them up. She turned then ran for Zabeth, who was still trying to get up but with no more success then she’d had before.
In the back of Makala’s mind, she knew that the archers could pick her off anytime, for skilled as she was, she hadn’t a shifter’s reflexes to help her dodge arrows. She also knew that if Erdis Cai chose to, he could intercept her whenever he wished and toss her about like a rag doll, just as he’d done with poor Zabeth, but she had no control over either of those things. Emon Gorsedd had taught her to ignore what she couldn’t control, so she kept on running. Either she’d reach Zabeth or she wouldn’t. At least she wouldn’t simply have sat still and watched her friend be torn to pieces.
Up to this point, Makala had avoided looking through the grating, but as she approached Zabeth, she glanced downward. She saw dozens of hairless shapes moving like pale shadows beneath her, and she knew the ghouls were converging on Zabeth. Makala began swinging the manacles over her head as she closed in on her friend, just as the first mottled-fleshed hand came up between the bars and reached for Zabeth’s left arm. Makala let out a battle cry as she swung the manacles with all her strength at the ghoul’s grasping hand. The shackle smashed into the pale fingers, breaking the creature’s claw-like fingernails. The ghoul screeched in pain and withdrew its hand, but more came to take its place-many more. Makala swung her improvised weapon with desperate, almost maniacal fury as she struggled to drive off the savage ghouls and save Zabeth, but there were too many of them and only one of her. Her arm and shoulder started to go numb, and despite her efforts, some of the ghouls had managed to wound Zabeth, and the shifter sobbed as her blood ran down into the pit below them, further exciting the ghouls. Makala refused to give in. She would fight to her dying breath and if possible beyond.