Kingdom of the Damned: Provocation (KIngdom Journals)

by Tricia Copeland

  “What of messengers? How do they manage gathering information?”

  “Aww, this is where you would be interested. The customs of the tribes in this area dictate each group be assigned eight messengers. They may wander where they will, hunting for sustenance without boundary. We maintain their sanctity for the good of all the tribes.”

  “So, you do look out for each other?”

  “Only in this, except for Erik and his brother. They do not honor each other’s messengers.”

  “And do you have the same law about hunting boundaries as the Norwegian tribes?”

  “Yes, we must maintain our food supply as do others.” He stands. “I have answered enough questions. You may rest here tonight and leave at dawn.”

  As he proceeds around the fire, his mate Ida and daughter Deidra follow. They exit the structure, leaving us alone.

  “It’s not as much as you wanted,” Will whispers.

  “No, I would like to know more of the history of his parents.”

  Will kneels beside me. “You should rest. I will keep watch.”

  “I’ll rise halfway through the night, so you can rest.”

  Fearing the unknown, it is hard to relax. I decide to trust Will and fall into a restful state. I’m rested when I sense motion in the room. I open my eyes to find Will pacing the space across the fire from me. “Is all well?”

  “Yes.” His eyes dart away from my gaze.

  I ignore that it’s obvious there’s more he wants to say. “You can rest now. I will keep watch.”

  “Like that will do any good.” The sides of his mouth turn down. Still, he lays the weapons before me and lowers himself to the ground. Stretching out, he rests his head on his arm.

  I position myself, back to the wall between him and the door. As his eyes close, I study the sword in front of me. Orange and red flickers dance in the silver metal, reflecting flames of the fire. Wood on the handle, worn and smooth, beckons to me. I inch my hand to the sheath as if the instrument may come to life. Soft wood, as if it has been saturated by decades of wear, greets my fingertips. I keep my eyes trained on Will, wondering if he knows my hands lay on his sword. But his muscles don’t move.

  My senses follow the sounds and smells of the village as they swirl around me. It’s hours before I hear footsteps approach the door. Realizing my hand still lays atop Will’s sword, I draw it back.

  With one swift motion, Will snatches the instrument and jumps to his feet. The door creeks open, and he stands ready, sword in one hand, spear in the other.

  Bjarke straightens his back and broadens his shoulders as he enters the structure. “Stand down, boy; show some respect to your elders.”

  Will’s eyes cut to the dirt floor, and he lowers his weapons.

  Bjarke chuckles, and I refocus on him. “You make quite the pair, the great white warrior and small dark scholar. Tell me, what is your lineage, Anne of Scotts.”

  “My parents were Egyptian.”

  “That would explain the slight build and dark coloring. Southern vampires, so reckless.” His eyes wander to the wall behind me and then back to my face.

  “They moved north to France. I was born outside Paris.”

  “I hear they were murdered by witches. You may attain your prize yet. As for now, I ask you to go.” He steps back from the opening. “Keep on an eastern path, fifteen moons to the next border. You will understand that I can show you no further friendship. Erik’s brother to the north looks for any opportunity to strike out. You may drink from the streams and eat of the vegetation but take no animal from our lands.”

  Lifting my bag from the ground, I spin to face Bjarke. “I seek no prize. My only aim is to know my people.”

  “But therein lies your bounty.” He takes a step backwards, giving Will and me a clear path to the door.

  As we approach, Will pauses in front of Bjarke. “What of the fowl of the air and fish of the water?”

  “No animal within the boundaries of my lands.” Bjarke folds his arms over his chest.

  “So be it.” Will bows his head to Bjarke.

  We exit the structure and make our way between the houses, heading east. On the horizon, the sun threatens dawn. Fear grips my chest as we pass the last structure. My mind darts to my first days in England when Elizabeth worked for bread, how my stomach felt like it might eat itself.

  “Have you never been without meat?” Will’s voice brings me back from the brink of hysteria.

  “Are you part witch? Can you read minds?”

  “The smell of fear wafts off you like a wave on the ocean. Don’t worry, I’m a hunter, but I also know the plants of this region. Like the bears, we will eat the berries and leaves.”

  Reaching the trees, we pick up our pace. A Russian tribe lies east, beyond the lowlands of the Finn tribe. As he passes a tree, Will snatches a branch. He stops and waits for me to catch up. Placing the end of the stick on the ground beside me, he assesses its height. “It’ll do.”

  “What’s that for?”

  “A spear.” He starts to strip the small twigs from the main piece.

  Pulling a short knife from his belt, he shaves the bark from the shaft as we trudge through the bog. Finishing, he holds the staff out to me. I wrap my palm around the soft wood. He asks for it back and begins to whittle the end.

  By midday he’s happy with the result. Balancing the weapon on his palms, he holds it in front of me. “You have fifteen moons to practice.”

  “Thank you.” I wrap my hands around the instrument. Testing its weight, I fling it some fifty feet in front of me. It hits a tree and bounces off.

  “Careful. I didn’t spend half a day on that for you to ruin it.” Will races to retrieve the spear.

  Catching up with him, I survey the surroundings. Low bushes coat the ground, and I start to wonder if Bjarke meant to include insects in his no-animal edict. Will begins to catalog the leaves and berries that can and cannot be eaten. I scout the brambles and spot some red berries within minutes.

  “We’re lucky it’s high summer. In winter we would starve. We should head south within thirty moons.”

  “We’ll see when the time comes.” I survey a hard, red berry and fit it between my teeth.

  Biting down, a tart juice erupts from the sphere. Still, the sour liquid isn’t unbearable. By the time I’ve consumed a handful of the small fruit, I grow to like them.

  “We should pick as we walk. I fear for our muscle tone. If you’re training, then you’re going to need meat sooner than later.”

  I follow Will’s lead, taking berries from some of the bushes we pass. Once I’ve eaten my fill, I stockpile them in my pockets for later. We walk through the night with Will instructing me as to the form of launching the spear. I practice hurling it into the earth, first with my right hand and then with my left.

  By daybreak, my arms and shoulders sear with wear. We decide to rest when the sun is up and travel at night. The first day, I’m exhausted and rest comes easily, but it’s several days afterwards before my body switches to the traditional vampire resting schedule.

  Growing muscle takes a lot of energy, and I never feel full. The elk, wolves, fox, badgers, and even the tall wading birds seem to call to me, causing my mouth to water.

  “Now, I teach you combat,” Will announces on the fifth day of our travels.

  I shake my head. “I don’t wish to know how to fight.”

  “Your mind is like a bird not wanting to land.” He points to the stars above. “No princess of mine will be helpless in the face of an enemy.”

  “I’m not your anything. As for landing, if I allow my thoughts to settle, I fear I may drown in grief.” I trudge ahead of him. Still, I get his logic. We have no idea what dangers lurk among the wild Russian lands. Will has said he once saw a bear attack a vampire. It did not win but being unprepared would not be smart.

  He begins by teaching me blocking strategies. I use my spear as a rod to keep his limbs from making contact. The exercises work my legs, and t
he only relief for my sore muscles comes from the cool streams.

  “Punches,” he starts after I’ve mastered defense. “The aim is to disable your attacker, maim them so you can escape. If you have a weapon, aim for soft parts. If not, aim for breakable appendages.” He jumps to a branch, flips, and then lands on the ground. Before I know it, he’s inches from me. He reaches out and runs his finger along my chin. Temporarily mesmerized by his fluid motion, I meet his gaze.

  “Don’t touch me.” I swing my elbow at his nose.

  He catches my arm. “Nice idea, but you have to be faster. “A trained fighter would expect that.” Resuming his path ahead of me, he details where I should aim my punches—jaw, nose, shoulder, ribs, stomach. “If you’re kicking, go for the groin or knee. A foot can break under a good stomp.”

  Switching to placement of weapons, he tells me to land a knife or spear in the eye, neck, arm, stomach, or leg. In a blink, he races to me, wrapping his arm around my waist, his teeth at my throat.

  A growl erupts from my vocal chords. I push with all my might but only manage to hold him at arm’s length. “I said don’t touch me.”

  “Training is useless without someone to spar against. Use me, your hatred for me. I was Erik’s strongest fighter. If you can best me, you can escape anyone.” He pushes his chest into my palm.

  I double my effort to hold him at arm’s length. My muscle trembles as my mind searches for an out. In a flash, I propel my body up to a tree branch. I can feel his heat on my heels, and I jump upward until the circumference of the limbs start to give way under my weight. Spreading my legs between two branches, I look down.

  “See, princess,” he pats my foot, “you only need to be strong enough to get away. Your reflexes and intellect will get you the rest of the way.”

  Anger bubbles under the surface of my skin, and I jump to a higher branch. “I told you not to touch me.” My lungs ache for breath, and my chest heaves air in and out. Lowering myself to the branch below, I sit down, letting my legs swing in the air.

  “If you were his strongest fighter, why did Erik let you leave?”

  Will is silent for a full minute. When he looks up at me, his eyes are like pools of black in the dim light. “From the second I saw you, I knew I could never be a killer again. Erik saw that too. I was useless to him.”

  “Stop with your pity. I don’t need your concern.” I launch my body off the branch to the ground.

  With a thud, he lands beside me. “It’s not your grief that attracted me to you. It’s your strength, princess.”

  His breath is warm on my cheek, and I shiver. Smiling, I swing my leg and catch the back of his knees, causing his ass to hit the hard ground. “Don’t ever call me your princess again.”

  “Fine.” He jumps to my side. “When you are Queen, I shall name you so.”

  The heat from his body, his scent, somehow a mixture of his own and Alec’s familial musk, hangs in the air between us. I roll my eyes and race ahead, clearing my thoughts.

  “You’ll be mature in maybe four months, yes? Will you ever love again?”

  “Why do you incessantly bug me? And how would you know when my birth date comes?”

  He sniffs the air between us. “Any male for miles will know your scent.”

  “I’m tired of talking.” I push ahead of him. Still, his assessment of my future intrigues me. “Tell me why you think I will be Queen.”

  “Beings see it in you. I’m not sure what to call it. Your heart, your soul, that of a crusader. It is rare for a vampire to be so idealistic, unselfish, compassionate. Vampires have survival skills, instincts like no other animal that walks upright. But we’re also more passionate than humans are. But, it’s not a civilized passion. We love harder, hate deeper. You seem to see all of it and want to embrace it, celebrate it. Many tribes hide in the far north, where they can avoid dealings with humans. But you think differently, like we could be free from running.”

  I shake my head. “Why do you keep saying things like that to me? I only want peace.”

  “I’m going to keep saying it until you own up to who you’re meant to be.”

  “Right now, I’m hungry, I want real food, blood, meat. Let’s pray to Mother Earth we’re allowed to hunt past the boundary.”

  As we continue on, my brain swirls with Will’s words. Am I crusader? A leader? It’s hard to focus when I’m hungry, but my stomach grows more accustomed to the diet every day. Still, my body craves blood. As a distraction, I question Will, but he knows little other than what Erik told me.

  In five days we catch the scent of a tribe, and at daybreak of the next, we reach their border, strong with the musk of others. We stand and wait to be greeted. With a swoosh of air, ten vampires appear before us. Will positions himself between them and me. With dark hair, but light eyes, their coloring seems strange, and I wonder about their lineage.

  One steps forward. “These are our lands. Where do you come from, and what do you wish?”

  Will extends his chest and stands tall. “I am Will, and this is Anne of Scotts. She wishes to speak with your leader about the history of your tribe.”

  “I am Felik, son of our leader, Igor. We do not wish to make enemies but are not used to such requests. It’s nearly day, and everyone will rest. We can escort you to an empty dwelling for our leader to decide at dusk.”

  “Thank you.” I step forward to stand beside Will as the ten circle around us.

  Will pulls his spear from his back, and the ten draw theirs.

  “Please.” I thrust out one arm towards Will, and it lands on his chest. Holding my other palm out to Felik, I lock eyes with him. “We mean no harm. Will has sworn to protect me, that is all.”

  “And who are you that he would swear such a thing, Anne of Scotts?”

  I square my shoulders. “I’m a girl whose family was murdered by witches and whose fiancé by a vampire.” Swallowing hard, I lift my chin. “I come from no one and belong nowhere.”

  Felik’s forehead creases. “I do not understand you.”

  “Forgive her, she was raised with humans and seeks knowledge of our people.” Will repositions his spear on his back.

  “And who are you, Will?”

  “I am Will of Alaric of the Norwegian tribe of Erik. I killed her mate.”

  Pulling Erik’s medallion from underneath my cloak, I hold it up. “Erik gave me this as a symbol of his friendship.”

  “My father, the leader of our tribe, will not entertain you. We have no need for friendship beyond our borders. We will escort you to the other side, so you may carry on your travels.” Felik starts to run.

  Sandwiched between the ten, we keep pace with them. At sunset we stop. Felik points to a copse of trees. “The border is on the next knoll. We will watch till you leave our land.”

  “So be it.” I dip my chin to him, and then Will and I take off.

  The next hill is heavy with the scent of another tribe. I slow to a walk. “Why did you tell them I was raised by humans? You make me look weak.”

  “Shh.” He circles his finger in the air. Leaning towards me, he whispers in my ear. “These people have not seen human civilization for generations. They live off the land. Your words are too complicated for them to comprehend. Life and death are as natural as breathing. They have no need for politics. You saw the village as we passed. Those twelve mud huts? They don’t want to be connected to others.”

  His breath on my neck makes me itch with the need for space and cool air. I back away from him. “You rest, and then I will.”

  “Need to think a bit, do you? Realizing how crazy you are?”

  “I’m not insane.”

  “No?” He reclines on the ground, a smile forming on his face. “You’re traveling with your mate’s murderer, and you’re starting to like him.”

  “I don’t like you.”

  “You were ready to protect me from those warriors. You touched me of your own will.”

  “I hit you. It’s in my best interest to keep
you alive. Let us rest.” I squat in front of a large boulder, pick up two sticks, and start to rub them together.

  Will snatches them from me. “You are crazy. I need rest, we can’t attract attention now.”

  “Fine.” I jump atop the rock and sit down.

  Am I insane? Have I accepted Will as a friend? What does that say about me and honoring Alec’s memory? I picture him in my mind, light curls hanging lose around his eyes, his tentative smile hiding raw confidence. My brain bounces through our year together, but as an owl calls out, I shut out the mounting grief.

  Refocusing on my job of protecting Will, I watch his chest rise and fall. Scent of deer wafts to my nose. Will must smell it too, for he rises and rotates his body, nose to the sky.

  “Do we risk it?” I ask.

  “I need food.”

  “Me too.”

  With Will on my heels, we track in the direction of the scent. Seeing a herd, I run and catch a doe with a few bounding leaps. I lock my fangs on the animal’s neck. My stomach isn’t used to having much in it and fills within minutes. I offer the animal to Will, and he has his fill. Once he’s done, he starts to skin the animal.

  “Find leaves and vines. We should take all the meat we can carry.”

  I watch as he carves the animal, making note of his technique and choice of parts. We pack our bags full and drag the empty carcass to a stream. Next, we wash ourselves of the evidence.

  With the extra fuel, my muscles feel strong again, awake and alive, and I keep pace with Will. After an hour running along the border, I slip my spear out and grip it with both hands. “I should train.”

  “Now you want to spar?” Flipping his weapon from his back, he tosses it between his hands.