The vampire continued the evening with stories about his former battles. It was quite obvious to all that it had been a very long time since the vampire had shared such events with his guests. And, indeed, it had been some time since he had guest who were curious enough to listen.
Dorian, however, seemed to be paying more attention to Keeth than to his host.
The wizard, motioning his hands under the banquet table, appeared to be weaving a spell of some kind. Surprised, the dwarf peeked around the room, wondering if any other people were aware of Keeth's actions. No one appeared to notice.
But, he did!
"What are you doing?" Dorian whispered to Keeth.
The wizard surreptitiously glanced at his host. Voslow was in the middle of a story, pantomiming a great battle, pretending to have his sword in his hand. He was a good storyteller - no one was paying attention to what he and Dorian were doing.
"I am trying to cast a spell," Keeth explained. His hands were giving off a green glow, which he tried to hide by placing them under the table, wrapped inside his robe.
"I know that," Dorian agreed, whispering a little lower. "What kind of spell are you trying to weave?"
Voslow caused a low roar of applause from the rest of the party. It was obvious that the vampire's stories were having their desired effect. A great amount of joy beamed from Voslow's features.
"I am wishing to read the vampire's mind." the wizard explained.
"For what purpose?"
"If he can betray his resting place during the day," Keeth said, looking up at Voslow to see if it was safe. It was. "Killing him will be easy."
"Then you still plan to go ahead with it all?"
"Of course!"
"Then, what of his statement, saying that he can aid Jatel with the ending of his curse?"
Keeth gave the dwarf a sad glance. "Dorian, even without reading Voslow's mind, even I can tell that the man is lying."
"Oh." the dwarf said, sad.
Dorian brought Keeth's attention back to the table.
Voslow had been staring at them for some time.
All eyes turned toward the wizard.
"I sense...magic." the vampire stated, his eyes starting to glow an angry red. "Who gave you the right to start casting anything?"
"Count, I&"
"No magic!" Voslow yelled, rising from his chair.
The banquet hall's lighting started to grow dark, fitting the mood of the host. Voslow threw a napkin down upon his table and started walking toward the wizard. He flashed his fangs, allowing all at the table to remember that he was a force to reckon with.
"Wizard, what are you doing?"
"Count Voslow, I apologize for&"
The vampire took hold of the wizard's robes and raised him into the air.
"There shall be no magic while I live within these walls," the vampire yelled. "Magic has done enough damage here, as far as I am concerned."
Rohan rose from his chair.
Again, faster that a wink, the elf had an arrow aimed at Voslow's hearts.
"Do not harm him." the elf calmly stated, pulling back upon his bow. The elfin weapon glowed a fiery red. Whatever was happening in the room, Voslow was correct in his assumption. There was magic involved here.
"You do risk much, elf." The vampire moved closer to Rohan.
"If you wish to see the next moon rise, vampire, let that man go."
"Rohan!" Ka-Ron warned. "Do not make such statements unless you are prepared for the actions behind them."
"I am prepared, knight," Rohan stated. "He will not harm the wizard as long as I am here, alive, and able to fight."
Voslow paused.
"I see that I grow tired of company this night." Voslow turned to stare into Keeth's frightened face. He noticed that the wizard's hands were free of magical discharge. Whatever he had been conjuring, the old man was too frightened to continue. "I will bid you all a good night. Beyond these halls there are several empty quarters. Pick your own resting places."
The vampire let go of Keeth, allowing the wizard to drop to the floor.
With a gust of wind, and before the blink of an eye, Voslow disappeared.
The crew of the Argo were now alone.
"What do we do now?" Jatel asked.
"We kill a vampire." the wizard said.
***
Molly could feel the fire growing inside of her. Her eyes stayed glued to En-Don, who was continuing to learn the art of the sword. He was practicing hard, and was sweating out his frustrations. Molly, lost in her lust, was doing all that she could to ignore her impulses.
It was not working.
En-Don continued to break vases and attack small rubber balls, slicing and cutting his way through imagined battles. The young man's eyes were as keen as his skill to wield his mother's sword.
Molly had built a small fire, trying her best to hide her hungry eyes behind the rising flames. To her agonizing shame, she wanted this man, and her moral dilemma was not helping her at all.
By all appearances, En-Don was a consenting adult. This much was clearly certain. If the two of them were to meet on the street, Molly would assume that En-Don were who he seemed to be. But, the seeming ended when the female knew of the man's origins. En-Don was still a babe. He still maintained that special innocence associated with the quite young. How could she take that away from him?
En-Don started to create more obstacles on which to practice his swordsmanship. Upon doing so, he bent over several times, picking up shattered fragments of clay pots, cleaning the deck.
All logical thought left Molly's mind as she focused her eyes upon the young man.
"To hell with principles," the vampire huffed, rising from the fire. "I'll just have to deal with the guilt later."
En-Don did not know it, but he was about to enter a rewarding but quite dangerous arena.
"Molly, I was thinking about your&" En-Don turned to face Molly. The young man stopped, surprised.
Molly's eyes held a certain look which seemed to pull at the core of En-Don's being. He was quite confused. In his hands, he held clay fragments from his practicing. But, try as he might, he could not seem to make his hands work the way he had wanted them to.
"I fear you have a more pressing battle ahead of you, En-Don."
"How so?"
Molly started taking off all her clothes.
En-Don found it quite hard to concentrate on his appointed tasks. As the woman got nearer, and as each garment of her clothing hit the deck beneath them, he became more and more tense. Still, he couldn't drop what was in his hands.
"En-Don, today you become a man."
Molly kissed the object of her conquest.
En-Don emptied his hands.
***
There was an insane need shouting inside the mind of the vampire as he struggled not to die. It had been at least a full phase, seven long suns, since he had tasted the nickel-like tang of another's blood. He barely remembered what it was like to feel normal. He had once been a humble storekeeper: a man who sold rare and unusual trinkets to passing strangers. He had always given them something to talk about when they returned home. He had loved his job and had done it well.
My guts are on fire! I cannot take this anymore!
From the corner of his eye, he saw a fire. Where there was fire there was life. And, where there was life, there was blood!
His hands would not stop their shaking.
His ears rang with a constant whining.
His mouth was so dry that his spit started to feel like grains of sand rolling around the insides of his mouth.
In his mind, however, there was the instinct to attack.
There was the audacity of hope.
***
The two on board the Argo were not aware of the danger they were in. All they seemed to care about was the exploration of each other's bodies. En-Don kissed Molly with the focus of a zealot. Molly was quite surprised to discover that the young man's instincts on lovemaking were quite a
dult for his real age.
Molly explored En-Don's body, quite aware of his arousal.
He wanted her as much as she wanted him.
"Molly," En-Don asked, kissing her on the base of her neck. "What is happening to me?"
"Nothing that hasn't happened to any other man, my love."
"Molly."
"Yes, dear?"
En-Don pulled back and looked at Molly's breasts. He held in his features quite an evil smirk.
"I am hungry now."
Molly beamed. "Then take me."
En-Don buried his face deep into the vampire's chest.
Molly closed her eyes in ecstasy, feeling each and every squeeze, nibble, and lick with great delight. There was nothing more fulfilling or pleasurable than being touched and enjoyed by the one you love. Still, love was a feeble word for what Molly felt.
They knew nothing about the danger climbing up to the ship's main deck.
***
His name had been Farrow.
As he peeked over the railing of the strange wooden ship, Farrow smelled the act of passion before him, which allowed his hunger to grow even more. It was only by a sheer act of will that the vampire had not attacked upon his first glance. He had been momentarily shocked into pausing when he realized that he had invaded a private moment between two people.
Blood! Need their blood!
The vampire tried to swallow. He could not.
As the two young people continued with their embracing, Farrow climbed up and over the ship's railing, hoping that the subtle splashing of his wet feet would not catch their attention. The bog was indeed quite a task for him in his current state of decay.
The couple did not hear him.
Farrow did all that he could to keep from laughing. His mind played out the scene before him. He would startle the young ones. The man would try to protect the woman. He would kill the man. Then, the woman would cry out in her fear. The fear would make her hearts beat faster. Faster beating hearts meant hotter blood.
Farrow could not wait.
"Mine!" he snarled.
En-Don and Molly parted upon hearing a new voice.
"To the gods! What are you?" En-Don asked, backing away from Farrow.
"He's got blood fever," Molly warned. "Take care, En-Don."
Farrow tilted his head upon hearing Molly's voice. She was like him. Of that he was quite certain. Had he intruded upon another vampire's feast? If so, there would be enough for the both of them. Of that, he was sure.
"Give me of his blood, sister," Farrow pleaded.
Molly, for an instant, felt great pity for her fellow undead. She had been like him when En-Don's father had crossed her path. Farrow's object of desire, however, was her new love interest. She would face a fleet of wooden stakes before she would allow En-Don to become as she.
"Over my undead body," Molly stated, placing herself between En-Don and the hungry vampire.
Farrow played out the scene in his frenzied mind. He blinked hard, trying his best to see past the tracers and white spots his tired eyes were producing. He was becoming quite weak. If he could not seek blood soon, he would collapse, being too sick to move. All that would be waiting for Farrow would be the coldness of a grave.
"Mine!" he shouted, trotting toward the young man.
Stepping forward, Molly tried to stop the vampire.
Farrow, crazed, hungry, and quite mad, had the strength of five vampires. Desperation was not only the unknown commodity of the living. The undead had use for it as well. The vampire grabbed Molly, raising her above his head, and threw her towards the bridge. Molly landed near the ship's wheel, unconscious and unable to help.
En-Don was on his own.
"Tasty!" Farrow giggled, his claw-like hands scratching and grabbing the air with anticipation of the meal to come.
En-Don did not falter.
His eyes, momentarily, fell upon the limp body of Molly. Her red hair covered her face, and it appeared that all life had left her body. Then, realizing that she was already dead, the young man relaxed. He soon noticed that Molly was indeed breathing, but at a subtle and slow rate.
"She lives," En-Don whispered.
Farrow bared his fangs and lurched forward.
The young man, still unable to explain why he knew all that he did about combat, reacted to the hungry vampire's lurch. He lifted an iron glove, hitting the vampire upon the bridge of his nose. En-Don closed his eyes to help guard them from the spray of blood. He could hear Farrow's nose breaking. He could see the discomfort he was causing. And it bothered him not in the least.
Farrow screamed and grabbed his nose. Vital blood - blood that he could not afford to lose, fell from his nostrils. In his hunger, the vampire licked at his lips hoping to recover the reddish liquid he had lost in his first volley of combat.
"Insolent brat!" Farrow huffed, opening his eyes, blinking, and fighting the pain. "You will pay for that."
En-Don unsheathed his sword. "Vampire! I call you to battle."
Molly stirred.
Upon hearing her moaning, En-Don turned his eyes to her attention.
Farrow saw that moment as the one to strike.
En-Don's eyes gawked with surprise, as his weight suddenly shifted and he fought to stay upright. Upon his back, giggling and salivating, Farrow tried to bury his fangs into the young man's neck. His mother's armor, thank the gods, kept the vampire from reaching his goal.
"Juicy! Heh-heh!" Farrow cried, attacking En-Don's neck like a crazed snake. "Juicy!"
Fighting the terrible pain in her body, Molly tried her best to gain a footing upon the ship's deck. Only one thing upon the globe had the power to stop a vampire, and that was another vampire. Farrow had just the amount of insanity needed to cause the woman serious damage. Molly's eyes began to focus.
"No," she whispered, seeing Farrow attacking her love.
With all her feminine fury, Molly screamed a war cry and rushed headlong into the battle.
En-Don would not face his enemy alone!
***
Ka-Ron kept her eyes closed as Jatel kissed her softly upon her neck. Her eyes swam in their dark enjoyment, as her squire continued to stimulate and explore. Jatel's hands, sometimes strong and sometimes not, squeezed her breasts, causing the knight to moan softly.
"Ka-Ron," Jatel softly whispered in her ear. Rather playfully, he started to nibble and suck on one of her earlobes.
This last caused a fire to explode inside of the knight.
As if she were attacking a Xow, Ka-Ron cried out in delight as she grabbed hold of Jatel's shoulders, causing him to turn upon the bed. As the mattress playfully bounced up and down, the squire accepted his reversal of position, allowing his master and lover to be on top. Ka-Ron played at her hair, having discovered that her man loved the sight of her raising her arms up to her head, and allowing her breasts to become victims of gravity. There was a smile of absolute surrender upon Ka-Ron's face as she slowly opened herself up to all the possibilities of the night.
Jatel and Ka-Ron became as one.
"Perform well, my squire," the knight begged, lowering herself for yet another kiss. It was in the kissing in which she found most of her enjoyment. For, in realizing that she was pleasing her partner, she seemed to feel and taste things in her passions with more sensitivity.
"Oh, my brave love&faster. Faster!"
Again, the mattress bounced.
Again, Ka-Ron's world exploded into waves and waves of joy.
Then, as fast as it started, everything simply stopped.
"Wha?" Ka-Ron opened her eyes. She was more surprised than annoyed.
Jatel was silent.
Jatel was asleep.
"Well," Ka-Ron said, now fully annoyed. "He sleeps."
The knight pulled herself out and off of her squire. She did not curse him, for she knew that he was still weak from his attack with Molly. So, she lay upon her back, naked, softly rubbing her belly, trying to allow sleep to claim her.
The room,
however, was aware of her.
Ka-Ron and her party had spent quite some time trying to decide what rooms to take. Count Voslow had vanished, and after several cycles at the great banquet table, they soon realized that they were all alone in the castle. Still not knowing where the vampire rested, Keeth used his magic in order to find a focal point in Mull Garden that was somewhat safe.
"Oh, Jatel, I do love you so." Ka-Ron whispered, falling asleep.
Again, the room was aware.
If Ka-Ron had been awake, she would have seen a rather odd wisp of air entering her room, via the only widow. The fog-like substance seemed to have a will of its own. Traveling the course of the floor like a snake, it floated up to the bed. Climbing the bed, it got under the covers.
The fog stopped and hovered above Ka-Ron.
Ka-Ron, feeling a weight upon her body, meekly smiled, for she was starting to feel the strong hands of a man.
Jatel must have changed his mind.
"Jatel," Ka-Ron whispered.
"I think not, madam."
Ka-Ron's eyes blinked to life.
Her body turned tense.
The knight, seeing Count Voslow upon her naked body, fondling her and kissing the sides of her neck, started to scream.
Voslow took it all in stride.
"I love a woman with spirit," the vampire said, laughing.
Voslow placed his knees between Ka-Ron's legs, spreading hers apart.
Ka-Ron, overcome, fainted.
***
Dorian rubbed his troubled stomach while his two companions silently laughed at him. Walking back and forth in front of Ka-Ron and Jatel's door had taken its toll upon the little dwarf.
"I did not eat too much!" Dorian insisted, challenging the laughter.
Rohan, not wishing to spend all night fighting, raised his hands in surrender.
"The lamb was quite good," the wizard admitted, chuckling.
"Oh, shut up!" the dwarf belched.
Rohan made a face. "Yes, wizard. Quite good."
"Shut up, will you!"
Keeth and Rohan exploded into laughter.
They could not guess it, but, under his own grumbling, yelling, and apparent discomfort, Dorian was laughing - as much as a dwarf's own honor would allow one to laugh, that is.
The Misadventures of Ka-Ron the Knight Page 28