Blood Lust
Page 20
“Because we are in the woods at night, of course,” said Albern. “I doubt anything like a wolf will approach our fire, but just in case it should—well, let us say that I am not quite the shot I used to be.”
He lifted the stump of his right arm, and Sun could not help but laugh. Albern’s smile deepened, and he reached for his bow, which he had placed on the ground at his feet. Sun took it with reverent hands. She had heard enough tales of Albern to know how much he had accomplished with this bow, what deadly foes he had faced armed with nothing else. Seized by a sudden impulse, she drew the string. It pulled far more easily than she had thought it would, and yet she could feel the power contained in the wood. She felt that she could shoot farther, and with greater power, than any bow she had ever held in her life.
“It is a masterpiece,” she breathed. “You made this yourself, did you not?”
“I did,” said Albern. “And if I may be forgiven a moment of pride, I am glad you knew that.”
“Whenever you are spoken of in tales, your skill with a bow is always listed first among your traits,” said Sun.
Albern laughed at that, shaking his head. “If only those tales were true. I am a talespinner myself, and so I know something of how the truth of my stories must have been twisted through the years, becoming a count of accomplishments that I would scarcely recognize.”
“Yet I have heard it said, on good authority,” said Sun, “that tales are not meant to be believed.”
“Then you have been well advised.”
Sun smiled, but it died quickly upon her lips. “I must ask you another question, if I may be so bold.”
“You have well earned at least one more honest answer.”
“What under the sky are we doing here?” Sun gestured at the empty clearing around them, at the stars above and the black, looming mouth of the cave not far off.
Albern nodded, pursing his lips. “A fair enough question. Let me answer only that I am expecting someone. Do not trouble yourself overmuch; I expect them before long. After they have arrived, and then left again, we can be on our way. You can go back to … well, to whatever you were doing before you found me. Does that answer satisfy you?”
“Will you give me a better one?” said Sun, her brows rising.
“Not at present,” said Albern with a grin.
“Then I suppose it will have to do.”
“I thought it might. And now, would you like me to continue the tale?”
“Please,” said Sun, settling herself upon the ground.
We rode into town with Liu and Oku. Guards must have spotted us approaching, for we found a small reception when we arrived. Several of the folk of Lan Shui were there, as well as Constable Baolan.
“What are you doing back here?” said Yue as we pulled to a stop before her. Her glare did not look promising.
“We found this boy near his homestead,” said Mag. “We heard that it was attacked only a few days ago.”
Yue looked at Liu again, and color rose in her cheeks. “Sky above. The Ton boy.”
“Just so,” I told her. “Is there anyone here who can care for him?”
“Give him to me,” said Yue, rushing forwards. She extended her hands for Liu, but the boy recoiled, pressing back into Mag’s body.
“Go with her, Liu,” said Mag, urging the boy forwards with a gentle push. Though he still seemed reluctant, Liu let himself be pulled down from the saddle and into Yue’s arms. She handed him off to a man from the town, who took off his coat to bundle Liu up in it.
“Now then,” said Yue. “What are you doing back here?”
Mag and I both balked at that. “We returned a boy you thought was dead,” I told her. “That should earn us at least some leniency.”
“I do not deny our gratitude,” said Yue. “But I thought you left this morning, for good, and I was not sad to see you go.”
“We are staying for a little while at least, to help with the—” I shot a glance at Liu and cut my own words off. “With the creature that has been seen in the lands around here.”
Yue scowled, and she, too, looked at Liu. “That is not a matter for you to concern yourself with. We are taking care of it.”
“Are you?” I said, my blood rising. “Is that why we found this boy alone, abandoned in the woods? Despite your obvious desire to see us only as troublemakers, we are not here to harm you, or anyone in this town.”
Yue turned back to the boy, and then back to us. Her hands were twitching, as though she sought someone she could feel justified in seizing and throttling. “Why did you go looking for the creature?” she said. “What is it to you?”
“A danger to the people of your town,” I said. “And we think we can end that danger. As you have said before, we are rather well-armed travelers.”
“You turn my words on me like a jest,” she said. “Forgive me for thinking this hardly matters to you.”
“Because I do not always look like I am chewing on a lemon rind does not mean I am not serious.”
Her scowl deepened, and she strode towards my horse. I jumped down from the saddle and planted my feet as she stalked up to me, looking down into my eyes. I did not realize until just that moment that she was almost a full head taller than I was. Mag tensed in her saddle, but she did not yet climb down to help.
“You think you can insult me in front of the people of my town?” growled Yue, too quiet for anyone but me to hear. Her breath washed over my face, and I was surprised to find it unexpectedly sweet.
“That is the first time I have done so,” I said in an equally low voice. “Yet your words to us have been a never-ending stream of disrespect. I appreciate your position, constable. For once, try to see ours.”
She looked over my shoulder at Mag. I felt some of the tension bleed from her, though she did not back away. “What position is that?”
I waited until she met my gaze again. “We want to help. We have other business that will carry us far away from Lan Shui, but we will not abandon your people while this monster threatens them. What do you have to lose? The worst that may happen is that the beast kills us. The best that may happen is the reverse.”
She seemed to want to argue further. But the eyes of the townspeople were upon her, and they were pitiful. At last she stamped her foot in frustration.
“Fine,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “If you wish to go riding off after this beast, I suppose I cannot stop you. But do not expect me to go trooping off after you.”
“We will not,” I said. “Now, if you will excuse us, we mean to do more hunting before the sun wanes.”
Yue’s face went from dark to pale in an instant. “The sun is lowering. Night will be here soon.”
“We mean to lure it out of its cave just after sundown,” said Mag. “Better, we think, than following it into its lair, even during the day.”
The constable shook her head. “I cannot say that is a wise course of action. But it seems clear you will do whatever you want.”
“Take Oku!”
Liu’s thin shout came from nowhere, and I looked up at him in surprise. The boy still clung to the man holding him, but he looked at us in earnest appeal.
“Take Oku,” he said again. “He is a good hunter.”
“Thank you, Liu,” said Mag gently. “But we can look after ourselves.”
“Oku is a good fighter. You will need him.” The boy’s eyes welled up, and before we could answer, he burst into tears. “He kept me safe,” he gasped between sobs. “He will keep you safe, too.”
My eyes stung, and I blinked hard before looking to Mag. She met my gaze and sighed. Oku sat near the villagers, his ears cocked as if he knew what we were saying.
“Oku,” I said. “Tiss.”
The hound’s mouth parted in a smile, his tongue lolling to the side, and he trotted up beside Mag’s horse. She gave a sigh and wheeled around, riding away from the wall. I remounted, looking down at Yue again—mayhap for the last time, I suddenly realized.
I turned and rode after Mag, hoping I cut a suitably impressive figure as we trotted towards the lowering sun.
NOW THAT WE KNEW WHERE we were going, we pressed the horses harder, and we had returned to the homestead in what felt like no time at all. But looking up, I could no longer see the sun over the western spur ahead. Daylight would remain in the sky for a while yet, but we were running out of time. Oku kept up with us easily, apparently untroubled by the slight wound in his flank. As soon as we stopped in the clearing with the farmhouse, he trotted around the perimeter, sniffing at the ground.
I led Mag to the woods where I had seen the tracks earlier. “We can follow them easily. But I am not sure whether we should bring the horses or not. They will make the journey faster, but I do not want them to panic if the vampire should attack us.”
“Let us bring them, and if we sense we are nearing the end of the trail, we can leave them behind, or tether them to a tree,” said Mag. “I want to find the creature’s lair in time, or we may not catch it as it tries to slip out to hunt.”
That seemed a sensible point, and so I did as she suggested. We nudged the horses into the woods, and I kept my eyes fixed on the ground, only lifting my gaze every so often to take stock of the land around us.
It was unsurprising that the vampire followed no trail I could see. Its path plunged straight through the trees and underbrush, paying no heed to any obstacle in the way. It was also unerringly straight—wherever the vampire had been heading, it knew the direction well.
The light was dim in the sky when we came to the end of the trail. It led into the mouth of a large cave, which came looming at us from the side of the slope ahead. We stopped half a span away. Oku began to whine immediately. I glanced down at him.
“I think we have found what we are looking for,” I said.
“So it seems,” agreed Mag. “But we do not have much time.” Daylight was vanishing quickly.
“Let us tether the horses a little farther away and make ready.”
We did so in short order, leaving them back down the trail we had followed to get here, their reins tied to the springy branches of a willow tree. Oku stuck close beside us now, and he began to whine the moment we approached the cave again.
“If we take care not to get injured, it should not be too difficult of a fight,” I said. “You have your spear, and I have my arrows. If we pierce it through, the wood should do the rest of the work for us.”
“Simple,” said Mag.
We took up position near two trees that stood close to each other. I pulled some dried meat from a pouch on my belt and ate it, suddenly realizing I had not had a meal since the morning. I hoped I would not regret that in the coming fight. As the light faded further and the blue edge of night bled into the sky, the moons showed themselves in the east.
“I think I should lure it forwards,” said Mag. “It will see me with my spear and, I think, approach me first. You can lurk in the trees, and when you have a clear shot, you can take it. Hopefully that will end it quickly.”
“A good plan,” I said. “As long as you do not let it spring upon you.”
“It will be your fault if it does,” said Mag with a wry look. “Do not wait too long to shoot.”
I snorted. “As you say.”
“And take the dog with you,” she said. “It might distract the beast if it remains by my side.”
“Careful,” I said, glancing at Oku, who was watching Mag with his tongue lolling. “He is a clever hound. You would not want to insult him.”
“Would I not?” said Mag indifferently.
I chuckled despite myself. “Tiss, Oku.”
The dog leaped up and trotted to my side. Mag looked at me and frowned. “You said that earlier. What is it?”
“Tiss,” I said. “A common command for trained hounds.”
“How do I tell it to go away? I suspect I shall want to.”
“Now you are just being cruel,” I said, reaching down to scratch Oku behind the ears. His tail wagged with delight. “Do not listen to her, friend. She is nowhere near as fierce as she sounds.”
Mag snorted and rose at last to her feet. The sunlight was nearly gone. I took Oku off into the trees, finding a place to stand that gave me a clear view of the cave mouth but did not put Mag in my line of fire. To the left of the cave mouth was a sort of natural wall in the side of the slope. The top of it was almost flat, and it climbed like a jagged stair up the side of the mountain and winding away out of sight in the woods. I guessed it would carry one closer to the peak of the spur, though I would have been hesitant to try the ascent with any speed. But I took position near it, one arrow held loose in my hand near the string.
Night advanced, and the stars twinkled above us. Still we saw nothing, heard nothing. When would the vampire rise? Did they ever have nights where they did not rise at all, but slept through to the next day, like a soldier just returned home from campaign? I wished I knew more about them, or that someone else in Lan Shui had been able to explain more—but then, if they had, they would likely have dealt with the creature themselves.
And then Oku growled.
I grew alert at once. The hound bristled, his nose pointed straight towards the cave, his paws spread. But his growl would not carry to Mag’s ears. I hissed, and she glanced over. I pointed to Oku and then at the cave, hoping she could see the gesture in the moonslight. She nodded and hefted her spear and shield, planting her feet wide.
A few moments later, we heard a scraping sound. And then the vampire emerged into the night. It walked on two legs like a man, but it was grotesquely hunched, bent almost double so that its hands nearly scraped the ground. If it had straightened, I know it would have stood at least three heads taller than me. Its skin was mottled, pocked, and pallid. It reminded me of the skin of those who have been badly burned and then healed, covered with a mass of scar tissue. Its hands and feet ended in curved claws each as long as a human hand, and it clicked and clacked them against each other as it moved. Its eyes were black, black as a wizard’s who had eaten magestones, and its pointed ears, which jutted backwards, flitted and twitched, straining to hear any sound. But once I saw its mouth, I forgot every other detail. It was round and wide, almost a circle, and the teeth were bared in a constant grimace. Those teeth were long and pointed and sharp, and stained so badly that in the moonslight they looked to be covered with fresh blood.
All this I took in with a moment’s glance, and I felt my limbs seize with fear. My right hand, holding the arrow, was slack, and my bow arm lowered towards the ground. Oku gave a tiny whimper and slunk back behind my legs.
But Mag, of course, felt no fear at all—or if she did, she hid it perfectly. Without hesitation she took one step towards the creature, taking no care to soften her footfalls.
The vampire, which had seemed to be snuffling at the ground, snapped its head up towards her. Its sharp teeth pointed, and it let out a long, hateful hiss.
“Sky above, you are ugly,” said Mag. “Come, let me wipe that hideous grimace from your face.”
If the creature understood her, it gave no sign, but it did begin to slink towards her. I wondered for a moment why it moved with such caution—it knew something of humans, clearly, and had already killed many of them. Why would it not think that Mag could be hunted as easily as anyone else? Mayhap it was uncertain because Mag was so brazen in her defiance, because she did not show the slightest hesitation or dread.
And then I recalled that I was not just a spectator, and that I had remained inactive for too long. The vampire was a few scant paces away from Mag now, and soon I would lose my shot.
The arrow was already nocked. I lifted my bow, drew, and fired straight towards the creature’s heart.
It moved.
When people of other kingdoms see the archers of Calentin, they are astounded at our skill. Most who met me thought m
y bowcraft was something of legend, that I must surely be the greatest bowman who ever lived in the nine kingdoms. Indeed, I am a skilled archer even by Calentin standards—or I was, in those days when I had both arms. And yet, for all my ability, I have met many masters who far surpassed me at the height of my skill. I was trained by a woman who could fire arrows faster than heartbeats, faster than blinking, and send them all with enough strength to pierce chainmail. If an enemy shot at her, she could shoot their darts from the air with her own. I know because I saw her do it. Her eyes were unerring and sharper than an eagle’s, and her limbs were a blur.
And yet the vampire moved faster than her. It saw the arrow from the corner of its eye, turned, darted aside, and snatched the arrow from midair before I realized what was happening. Then it flipped the dart around and threw it back at me—not with the strength of a bow, but still fast enough to pierce skin. I was saved more by luck than reflexes—I tried to duck, almost too late, and slipped on a patch of loose leaves. I struck the ground hard, the wind driven out of my lungs.
Sky save me, I thought. How is it so fast?
I heard an inhuman screech and looked up just in time to see it charge me. All four limbs ripped and tore at the earth to propel it forwards, sending clods of dirt in all directions.
But as fast as it was, Mag was able to catch it. She ran and leaped in between me and the vampire, and it skidded to a halt before her. But hardly had it paused before it struck with one clawed limb. Mag blocked the swipe, and I heard the deep rending of claws on wood. She stabbed in retaliation, but the vampire spun out of the way. It tried to turn the movement into another attack, but Mag’s shield was there again to stop it.
It was not until that moment that I realized something about Mag. I had only ever seen her fight another human. When she did so, it was a slaughter. I had never seen her face another opponent who had stood a chance. But now, facing a foe that was so much stronger than a human could ever hope to be, Mag’s skill was displayed in full. My eyes, sharp as they were, could not follow the speed of her swings and thrusts. My mind could not comprehend how she knew where the vampire would strike next, nor how she could twist in just such a way to avoid it, place her shield in just the right way to block its swiping claws. Once or twice the vampire struck her mail instead of the shield, and I winced. But after the first time, I realized that even that was part of Mag’s plan. She only let it strike her when the blow would glance from her armor, and when it gave her the opportunity to attack with her spear. Her armor was part of her, just like her shield and spear, and she fought now with her whole body instead of only her weapons.