The castle began to creak and moan, allowing the shadow of seriousness to replace the sounds of mirth. The three companions sobered up returning in course to their duties.
"Keeth, may I ask&"
Before the elf could finish his question, all three were stopped by a woman's scream.
"That was Ka-Ron!" Dorian shouted.
The wizard turned to the door and reached for the knob.
Upon rushing in all three saw a terrible sight.
"Upon my nose," Dorian prayed, his voice shaky and that of a whisper, "what is going on here?"
"I&I&" was all Keeth could bring himself to stutter.
Rohan reached for his bow, pulled, and aimed. The elf closed one eye for targeting.
Upon Ka-Ron's bed, the knight had her legs open, with toes pointing toward the cobweb-infested air. She was moaning, but not with delight. Her hands buried themselves into the moldy sheets of her mattress, hoping above hope to find a weapon of some kind.
"Help me!" she screamed. "To the Gods! Do something, please!"
On top of Ka-Ron, as naked as she appeared to be, was Count Voslow. It was clear to all that the vampire was having his way with the knight.
Jatel, next to the both of them, appeared to be asleep.
"He could not be sleeping through all of this!" Dorian insisted, turning to the wizard for some answers.
"He must be under a spell," Keeth surmised. The wizard rubbed his chin, trying to think of a solution. "I know of a spell used by counseling wizards in Amadodd."
"Then use it!" Rohan and Dorian shouted in unison.
The vampire began to moan in enjoyment, continuing his attack upon the knight. Ka-Ron tried her best to break free, but found that the more she glared into the vampire's eyes, the more futile and weak she became. With a blink of his eye, Voslow made her desire him. Try as she might, her loins would not stop their functions. Try as she might, her body was no longer under her control.
Ka-Ron closed her eyes in shame as she felt another delightful explosion of her sex envelop her body. She quivered uncontrollably.
Keeth had managed to come up with a solution.
He cast his spell.
Nothing happened to Ka-Ron.
The violation continued.
"Ah, stupid wizard!" Dorian huffed, "He's still raping her. Your spell did nothing!"
"Nothing, you say." Keeth smiled, directing all their attentions back toward the bed. "Observe."
Jatel started to stir.
His eyes opened.
The squire was now aware.
"Young woman, you are good for me." Voslow laughed, moving faster upon the knight. If a vampire could moan and enjoy the warm feeling of a woman, the Count was soon getting the most of his measure.
Rohan saw Jatel stirring.
"Jatel!" the elf yelled, aiming his bow at the squire. "Catch!"
With a flick of his wrist, Rohan let loose his bow.
The arrow, picked personally by the elf, was a sleek silver piece of artwork created by his people and village. It had always served him true. It had never missed its mark.
Jatel heard Rohan's words and remembered his training.
The squire sprang up so fast, without any warning, that even Voslow's actions were slowed by Jatel's speed.
As the arrow flew through the air, it approached Jatel at a blinding flight. Jatel soon flung his hands outward, stopping the silver blur that was the arrow in mid-air. The squire winced in pain. He stopped the arrow, without the luxury of gloves, causing some of the skin upon his hands to burn. Shrugging the pain aside, Jatel recoiled from the force of the arrow's flight, taking upon him full control. As fast as he recovered, he turned, plunging the highly polished tip of the weapon deep into Voslow's back.
The vampire screamed in agony.
"A fair and good hit, my boy," Keeth proclaimed.
"Get&off&my&woman!" Jatel screamed. Pulling the arrow out, the squire stabbed the vampire several more times. With each squirm and scream, he found the strength to continue.
Ka-Ron, upon hearing the words shouted by her man, beamed. Although Voslow continued on with his violations, not missing a stroke, the knight's eyes stayed focused on Jatel.
"She is mine," Voslow insisted. The vampire let out a contemptible giggle, responding towards Jatel's several stabs into his back. "And, you, sir, are missing your mark."
Before Jatel could respond, Voslow reached up with his right hand and slapped the squire off the bed, across the room, and forcing him to bounce off the opposite wall.
"Oh, he'll feel that one when he wakes, I wager," Dorian said, rubbing his beard with frustration.
Both Rohan and Keeth gave the dwarf a hard glance.
"What?" Dorian replied his hands up in honest argument.
Ka-Ron let out another plea for help, as the vampire took hold of one of her breasts and sucked on it with an unlimited amount of desire. Voslow laughed. He was enjoying his conquest.
"Wizard," Rohan yelled, his frustration clear. "Do something!"
Keeth added up what he was seeing. Jatel was only now starting to rise from his wounds. He and his friends were too far away. Voslow continued to violate Ka-Ron upon the ancient bed.
His options were few.
Then, the wizard saw the answer!
"Something is about to happen, my friends." Keeth suggested, weaving his hands together in magical combat. "Be assured, our dear knight will be saved."
"About time!" Dorian huffed.
"Oh, shut up!"
Voslow let go of Ka-Ron's breast, feeling the electricity forming in the air. Looking over his shoulder, he noticed that the wizard was working up a spell. Ka-Ron let out another moan as she released passionate energy, making the moment that more enjoyable to Voslow.
"Work on this, wizard," the vampire said.
With a flick of his wrist, and little more from his will, the vampire conjured up a swarm of insects. Their aim, to buzz around the wizard, elf, and dwarf, making their life more complicated.
All three covered their faces. The insects attacked with a great fury. Dorian, at one point, almost passed out. The bugs had gathered so thickly upon his face that the little dwarf found it almost impossible to breathe.
"Is this all a part of your plan, wizard?" Rohan asked, pulling several slimy bugs from entering his ears.
"As a matter of fact, yes! Yes, it is, my dear elfin friend."
"Ahhhhh!" was all Dorian could bring himself to say, spitting a bug out of his mouth.
It had been a great many seasons since Count Voslow had felt so alive. Quite enjoying himself, the vampire buried his concentration into the soft and moist universe of his current prey. Ka-Ron's wonderful body was a source of great delight. Such wonders had become quite alien to the vampire&so lost in the back of his mind that he almost found the lovely feelings of enjoyment and intimacy to be quite painful. Voslow was surprised to find himself crying, remembering, if only for one solid instant, what it had been like to be a man.
A wave of crippling pain flashed through Count Voslow's body. He found himself screaming in agony. In abstract terror, the vampire looked down upon Ka-Ron the knight.
The woman's eyes were both open and focused. In her hands, she was holding onto the silver arrow used by her squire to gain the vampire's attention.
"You&cannot&" Voslow tried to state, his voice barely that of a wisp of bad air.
The vampire could feel the blood leaving his hearts. Voslow noticed that the knight had hit him with a fatal blow. In her hands she held the arrow, but the point rested deep within his ribcage, between the hearts.
"Get off of me," Ka-Ron softly demanded.
Voslow's face contorted in both surprise and agony. He tried to respond, but found he no longer had the power. The Count suddenly remembered an old folk tale, about one seeing his life pass before his eyes at the moment of death. Voslow saw nothing. All that was there was blackness and dust. This, above all else, terrified him.
"No!" Voslow shouted. H
e started to pull himself away from Ka-Ron.
Naked, violated, and filled with rage, the knight followed her attacker. With each retreat Voslow made, the woman forced the silver arrow deeper and deeper into his body. Ka-Ron's eyes met his, matching revenge with his terror. It was a sick and twisted sort of dance.
"I have lost much in my life," Ka-Ron said, her face now starting to drip with Voslow's blood. "But you, sir, are about to lose everything. I damn you, sir. Damn you to the darkest point of the nether regions!"
Ka-Ron made one last thrust.
The arrow came out the other end. A part of Voslow's spine poked out with it.
The vampire feebly made it to his feet.
"You cannot kill me." Voslow laughed.
The vampire turned his attentions towards Keeth and his friends.
"He still lives!" Dorian said, wielding his ax before him. The dwarf was ready for combat.
"I thought you stated that silver would kill this one?" Rohan reached for another arrow, pulling back on his bow.
"Silver is supposed to kill him," Keeth proclaimed, taken aback. "At least, that is what it had stated in the ancient texts."
"Ancient texts?" Dorian and Rohan shouted.
Voslow pulled out the arrow.
"Well, that's what they said," Keeth defended.
The vampire let out a triumphant scream, baring his fangs at the three. He gave the impression to all that he wished to walk toward the wizard and his comrades, for what they all knew would be uncertain tidings of discomfort. He put a foot forward.
Voslow's advancing foot, before it hit the ground, collapsed in upon itself, turning to dust. The vampire froze.
"There's something you don't see everyday," Dorian giggled.
Voslow fell to the floor. His body lost all substance. He became nothing more than a harmless pile of mildew and dust.
He was, for lack of a better definition, quite dead.
"Did we just win?" Dorian asked in a whisper.
"Don't hex it, dwarf," Rohan said.
As the wind blew what was left of the vampire away, sunlight exploded into the halls, rooms, and dungeons of Mull Garden. The castle seemed to come alive with a vibrant life force. Deep inside the castle walls, bells were heard. The chapel came to life, and birds returned to the surrounding trees.
"What has just happened?" Rohan asked, his hands outstretched, taking in the bright rays of the suns.
"I thought that would be obvious," Keeth proclaimed, quite satisfied with himself. "The castle is celebrating the release of Voslow's soul. Evil as he might have been, he loved this place. And anyplace worth its mortar and brick would not deny happiness and peaceful rest to a loving master."
"Is he at rest?" Dorian asked, somewhat doubtful.
"If he's not, dear dwarf, then I fear for his current condition."
The wind stopped, leaving nothing of the vampire.
Jatel fell to the floor.
"Jatel!" Ka-Ron shouted, only now getting the strength to leave her bed. The knight ran to her squire's aid, silently ordering her team to stay back a respectful distance.
"I feel a fire inside of me, sire."
Ka-Ron turned a worried eye towards the wizard, while at the same time comforting Jatel.
"He is becoming normal once more, child," Keeth explained. "Nothing more."
The squire shook as if suffering from a high fever. Every muscle and fiber of his soul began to rebel against the ways of the normal world. His vampiric nature was slowly dying. His eyes, once bright red with undead blood, turned a cold black, and then slowly faded back to their normal colors. The fangs that were growing in his mouth dulled and retreated back into the confines of his jaw. With sweat dripping from his brow, Jatel looked into the careworn eyes of his master and lover, seeing only love and concern.
Jatel reached up with his hands still shaking and aching from change, and kissed his lover with the passion and longing of a normal man.
"Ah," Dorian huffed, "Don't those two ever stop?"
The danger, as it was, had passed.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
En-Don slowly stepped back as the body of the vampire screamed and raged in a fiery pain, only to land upon the deck of the Argo as a pile of ash and bone. Molly quivered behind the young man as he guarded her from the undead beast's futile attack. In Farrow's last charge, the young warrior had remembered something his father had asked him&something about plunging his mother's sword between his hearts, should the wizard's attempts to save him fail. If such a manner of attack could bring down En-Don's father, would not the same tactic work upon another?
"You have killed him, En-Don," Molly shouted. The woman hugged and kissed the back of En-Don's neck.
"Obviously," En-Don added, not at all understanding the female vampire's emotions.
Molly gently grabbed En-Don by the hands and pulled him towards her sleeping quarters. There was a predatory glance in her eyes that En-Don recognized but could not bring himself to understand.
"Molly, I hear a chapel bell in the distance," En-Don said, pointing off into the horizon. "Perhaps our friends have succeeded."
"Perhaps."
"Molly, where are we going?"
"You shall see, my love." Molly's voice was strangely soft and inviting. "You shall see."
En-Don did not understand.
Having closed her cabin door, Molly gently took off her clothes. En-Don, with eyes wide open, sat upon her bed, watching as each garment hit the deck. His mind was clouded. His eyes did not want to blink. His breath was uncertain and as rapid as a rabbit in flight. When the woman approached him, naked, his defenses failed. He allowed her the first volley of attack. He allowed her to remove his armor. He allowed her his mother's sword.
"Molly," En-Don whispered as he took her by the waist.
"Be calm and take what is offered."
Both kissed and fell to the mattress.
En-Don did not understand what he was doing, but he enjoyed doing it. Naked and quite honest to the world, he allowed Molly the time to play. And he, liking it, had decided to let her do as much as she wanted to. En-Don saw Molly moaning, moving up and down, holding on to him with a passion as alien to him as the act he was currently performing. There was an honesty there beyond age and truth, but as clear as any satisfaction sought in the wisdom of the thing. En-Don's mind could not wrap itself around the event. And for once, he was quite afraid to touch her - in fear of ruining the moment. So, he remained, surrendering to his and her joy, as one.
Then, as sudden as it had started, they stopped.
Molly's face started to flash a small instance of confusion. At first, there was an innocent twitch in her left cheek. Then, she closed her eyes, wincing in an uncomfortable wave of pain, which appeared to come from out of nowhere, and had no intention of stopping.
"Molly?" En-Don asked, grabbing hold of the woman's arms.
"En-Don, something's wrong."
Before the young man could react, the vampire screamed in agony, rolled off of him, and landed on the floor. She continued to scream and ended up quivering in a fetal position. All color left her face. Her eyes turned a foggy black. She looked as weak and feeble as she had when Jatel first encountered her.
"Molly! Molly!" En-Don screamed, tears filling his eyes. He looked around the room, confused, helpless, and feeling quite defenseless.
Molly stopped.
She appeared dead.
"No!" the young man screamed.
En-Don rose and put a shaking hand to his mouth. If his mother and father were there, watching him, they would have associated his reactions to that of a small child, who, upon breaking a priceless relic belonging to his parents, would stand helpless, surrendering to the fates. En-Don had never been so terrified. Had he been the one to snuff out Molly's life force? He was quite aware of his magical birth. Was he a poison to vampires? Did he cause this?
Hell had no darkness worse than what grew in En-Don's heart.
Then, suddenly, Molly took in a
long gasp of air.
She was breathing!
"I&am&alive." Molly whispered.
With great joy, the young man grabbed hold of his lover and could not express the relief he was feeling. In his excitement, he almost choked Molly to death. Quite fast, the woman pulled her overjoyed friend from around her neck.
"En-Don," Molly said. "He's gone from me."
"Who?"
"Voslow," Molly exclaimed, laughing. "I'm free! I'm a woman again. The vampire in me is gone. I no longer have the hunger. I'm free!"
En-Don kissed Molly upon the cheek. "I am happy for you."
Molly, feeling the love for En-Don in a more natural way, embraced the naked man, and directed him back to their shared task.
"We were in the middle of something, I think," Molly whispered, kissing En-Don's chest.
"Yes." En-Don confirmed.
Again, the two played.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
"What shall become of us now?" Dorian asked.
After the death of Count Voslow, and Jatel had been judged cured of his curse, the crew of the Argo thought it best to leave Mull Garden to the fate awaiting it. They were all sure that the castle would be taken care of once again, and rightly so, the memory of Count Voslow, the hero and knight, would, in time, be as rewarded.
"Well, since Jatel is cured, and nothing ties us here," Keeth stated, leading the way back to the wet bog in which their ship rested, "I believe we can again venture toward The Fire Mountains, so that Ka-Ron could confront her Wicca Master, changing everything back the way it had been."
"Yes," Ka-Ron agreed.
"Yes." Jatel said sadly. "Just as it all was."
The squire gave his master a long and uneasy side-glance.
Ka-Ron started to fidget.
"Yes," the wizard smiled, rubbing his hands together. "It's all been quite an adventure."
"The best," Ka-Ron whispered, turning her eyes to the ground.
Keeth read much in the unspoken language going on between the knight and her squire, but, to his credit, he allowed the observations to pass. These were uncertain waters for a wizard to swim in; after all, a wizard's life was not a life of passion. His was a need to know&to understand. Love, although a powerful force in the universe was too confusing a matter for him to perceive.
The Misadventures of Ka-Ron the Knight Page 29