by Unknown
Heavy winged shapes glided across the sky, out of bowshot, taunting the troops below with eerie screeches.” They know everything about us, our numbers, reserves which we don’t have; where the supplies are located. I expect them to land fighters . I have moved the bulk of the supplies and hidden them in the trees. I want every fifth man out of the line. They are to be held as a mobile force to be sent wherever there is trouble. Put extra guards on the command tent. I won’t…” A shout came from the left. One of the sentries was pointing .He fell as an arrow went through his breastplate.
Something heavy struck him on the armour . He landed with the breath driven out of him. He made to sit up; a stab of agony went through his side. The ground shook as a creature out of nightmare landed close, winding its long neck. Vestigial fingers at the tips of both wings. A figure on its back, secured to a heavy saddle, face covered by a long cowl. Saroon stepped close at the other side. The creature opened its jaws to lunge at him when Saroon brought his sword down with all his strength. The blade was heavy and sharp as a razor . It passed through the monsters neck. The rider toppled from the back of his mount and lay sprawled. Saroon lifted the Tulwar to run at the rider but a piece of gristle had trapped the blade. He pulled at it as the rider surged to his feet and pointed. Lightning burst from his fingertips striking the officer who fell, a hole in his breastplate. The rider turned and pointed at him.. The world disappeared in a blaze of light.
Gentle fingers touching. Eyes watering as they adjusted to the light. A tall, long haired woman with a serious expression. Bekter, grinning from ear ro ear. A thin man with mournful eyes. The fourth went to the door and left. The old man looked at him.
“When they brought you in you were lost to all our measures. Still you lived. Some of your wounds proved beyond all our skills. Yet you healed. There is Demon Magic in you. Some said that you should not come among us but they were overruled”
“Nice of them” Bekter muttered sourly.
His clothes were gone; and the battleaxe.“We could not permit that abomination here. It is corruption”
“It saved our lives and those of your kinsmen” Bekter replied.
“You may have it when you leave .Sara is your doctor .I am Balthasar.“The old man bowed and left. Hawkmoon pulled himself up in the bed, gasping. The doctor moved to his side. “It will be spring before you are well enough to travel….”
Bekter lounged by a roaring fire, satisfied with the prospect of a winter in Elfhome .In a week Hawkmoon would be in a lather of impatience. The doctor fussed about Hawkmoon, mopping his brow and straightening his covers. Her hair fell loose at her waist. She reached across him to straighten his pillow and their eyes met. She hurried to the door, colour rising in her face. As she closed the door she glared at Bekter’s pipe who affected not to notice. A young elf came with a tray. Hawkmoon waved it away. Bekter took it. Shame to waste food.
Elfhome is divided by a river that flows through a high valley. Bekter was crossing the bridge when a group of warriors approached. Shadrach, Logan and three scouts; the last was Chatto who saluted him. “Well met young man, I am pleased to see you but Hawkmoon will want to know why you are here. He gave you a task”
Chatto took him by the arm and nodding to his companions led Bekter to the riverbank. Floes of ice were rushing by on the current. They sat on a stone wall. “She is my sovereign., I cannot choose which orders to obey and which to ignore. The Queen sent me to the Parish. When I finished there I had dispatches for Elfhome I thought I could make the return journey but the weather closed in.” Bekter stood brushing ash from his troos. “I am going to the Refectory. Will you join me?
They waited while young elves brought heaped platters of food. Chatto was curious about the balloon . “I thought it was madness but Hawkmoon has always been lucky.” Chatto told him of the new weapons. Bekter made rings with the smoke of his pipe“If they can fly without Magic they can make hundreds.”
“Word has started to go round. In spite of all the precautions there is talk of the new weapons. People think that the war is already won”
Bekter tapped the bowl of his pipe.” They have an army of half a million. We could kill ten for every one of ours and still lose… They will send forces at Silverlode but the main attack will come against the Dasatii.”Chatto reached for Bekter’stobacco.” …. We have to get the Elves into this fight”
“Don’t expect too much from them. Their numbers are declining The King does his best but interest in the affairs of men is waning. Many are going to Seareach. They are buying ships and sailing away. No one knows if they reach their destination because no one ever returns.”
Bekter sat out the next day. Around mid morning the Sara closed the door from Hawkmoon’s cottage. Fixing her hair, she made her way across the bridge. Smiling, she waved to Bekter A woman who spent an entire night with Hawkmoon; a rarity indeed. They would come to him in the morning, faces white with dread. They said Hawkmoon talked in his sleep. Nothing unusual about that but sometimes he was answered…
They were tall the Elven women, prone to be thin. Sara was lush with heavy breasts, a narrow waist and flaring hips. What was it about women? The finer they were the stronger the attraction to the darkness in men?
Beyond Elfhome the world huddled under the lash of winter. Snow blocked the passes. Ice choked the rivers. Birds had flown to the Warm South. Woodland creatures had retreated to cave and burrow. In Elfhome birdsong rang from the trees, rabbits gambolled on the lawns, deer grazed by the river. It rained politely at night to irrigate their gardens. No record told of when the folk had settled in the land . The river that ran through it was mild, warmed by water from hot springs . It was thought that the Elves protected the valley. In fact the opposite was true. The valley gave them life and lent them their magic. Hawkmoon was sitting up as a young elf tended to the fire. No trees were cut in Elfhome . Enough died in the forests beyond to serve their needs.
When his pipe was glowing to his satisfaction Bekter sat in the big armchair. Hawkmoon sat opposite wrapped in a fleece. “You are looking well. It is true what they say about the healing powers of the Elves. Sara seems particularly attentive.” Hawkmoon ignored him. “You have visitors in the afternoon. … “ Bekter waited until the young fellow finished with the fire. “What happened back there?” Bekter asked.
“We fought. We won.”
Bekter stood and pulled the chair closer to the fire. ““Hawkmoon…You might as well tell me. Don’t bother lying. You were never much good at it.” Hawkmoon stared into the flames. How much of him did it know? What parts of him were private? When he lay with Sara was the demon with them? When he woke she was there, wrapped in his arms. Were the lesser demons quiet because a greater had come? … Hawkmoon stared at Bekter. “Do you know where they have taken it? Can you bring it to me? “Bekter ignored the question. “You called a demon; a powerful one. The question is can you send it back?”
“I don’t know” Hawkmoon stared at his friend.” I don’t know if I want to”
“What does it want?”
Hawkmoon was silent, looking through a bay window up to houses built high on the side of the valley.. “ It wants what they all want, the chance to walk in the sun, feel the wind, eat , lie with a woman, to feel an enemy die by its hand”.
“Chatto is here.” “Bekter told Hawkmoon of his meeting with the Dhampir.
“I gave him orders to stay at her side.”
“Hawkmoon, she is the Queen. .”
“What is he doing here?”
“Good question”
A page knocked on the door to announce the Elven Lord. Hawkmoon rose to meet them. So marked were the traditions of courtesy among Elvenkind that the Lord and Lady would not enter any house unbidden. Aladan was past the prime of an Elf’s life. Ashling was younger, the mother of grown warriors. She was tall and comely with lustrous hair that fell below her waist. Her eyes were sea green; the heritage of the Pearl Fishers, the women who married the crew of the Swallow and returned wi
th the Navigator . Last year had seen the birth of triplets; an event unprecedented among the Elves. Ashling had his bed moved to the parlour and Hawkmoon was ordered to get back into it. Servants fussed with chairs until everyone was comfortable. “It is good to see you again Hawkmoon. You have been a friend and valued counsellor these many years”
“Your majesty, I am embarrassed to lie in your presence.”
“Doctors’ orders are to be heeded, my friend. We welcome you to Elfhome and congratulate you and your companion on your work in the North” It took an hour to relate the tale. The Lady asked him about the ruins in the desert. Hawkmoon said he planned to go in search of them.
The wind buffeted him as he passed under the trees that marked the borders of Elfhome. He shivered his body trembling and weak. It was here somewhere; he could feel it calling … As he clambered through snowbanks his eyesight blurred and doubled. Beneath the snow, locked in ice ....a shape on the bottom. Reaching in his pack he took a long handled blade with a heavy point. The wind got up and snow flew around him. Darkness was near when the sound of steel striking steel rang over the storm. Removing a glove he reached in the hole. His fingers touch an edge. Blood flowed. Heat bloomed and he sat as the ice split, venting steam. In minutes the ice was gone, replaced by flowing water, The axe lay at the bottom. Wrapping it in oilcloth he carried it to the trees.
He sat on a stump while the wind howled outside. The blades were bright, unmarked, and perfect. He remembered the feel of splintering shields, broken armour, the intoxication of battle..
“Soulbiter” Hardly were the words spoken but the presence was there.
“You are weak. I can heal that if you wish”
“I will mend by my own strength.”
“How do you know where your strength lies? You seem to believe we are separate . “
“You came when I found the axe”
“Was I part of you all this time and waiting for the axe so that I might speak?”
“What are you?”
“I am your darkness..... The moment the seed joined the egg, I was with you.. Deny this and you deny your life.. You will fly from yourself and never escape. Accept the truth and you will know peace.”
Time passed in the forest while blizzards raged in the world beyond. Day passed into night and came again. Days passed without the need for neither food nor comfort. Were it not for the protection of the axe he would have died. Tentatively at first, he let his awareness move into his body, passing from the chest to the stomach. Long accustomed feelings of tension and pain had eased
Unless I call on you, never reveal your presence. Not to me , not to anyone. When I have need I will speak your name .Are we agreed.?”
“We are.”
People stared as he returned with the axe. He sat by the fire late in the evening waiting for an note from the King commanding him to remove the axe from Elvish lands.
As he prepared for bed a page delivered a letter from the King. Expecting it to be an order to leave with the axe he was surprised to receive a copy of a letter written by his Queen.
Your Majesty.
It is a joy to greet you and send our best wishes for your continued happiness. Warm relations of service and friendship have stood between our peoples for time out of mind. It is our dearest wish that it should ever be so. We received your gifts and your ambassador at our Coronation and were pleased with both. We understand that you were in poor health at the time and appreciate that you could not attend in person. We have enclosed certain items which will be of interest to you. One in particular will concern you as it affects not only the fate of your race but the peoples of the Land.
Included are certain documents related to the work of Hattim al Jiddah. He was one of our foremost scientists with a particular interest in the Science of the Elders. His fellow academics regarded al Jiddah as an adventurer. His life was not the safe existence those who occupy the halls of universities however the man was capable and brave. He took great risks and survived hardships to serve the Land and its people.
He recordsvthat on his wanderings he discovered a site in which he found evidence of an advanced civilization.. Events required him leave before he could complete his research. The Wampyrh are known to possess a device which merges men and animals the most notable of which are the gliders they use to wreak violence across the Land. al Jiddah’s claims should not be dismissed.. We found the book at Witch’s Keep ,concealed in a larger volume. The main text is in an Elvish script which the sisters who specialise in these matters, were unable to translate. The foreword is in Common Script where he makes certain proposals. Some of what he has to say does not reflect favourably on the Elves. The Elven Lord of that time made a grave error. Kings make mistakes. And Queens.
Al Jiddah was a man who stood high in your Councils, who knew many of your closely guarded secrets yet he did not trust you; not because of your past errors but the ones you might commit at some point in the future. .It had been our intention to bring the papers to Elfhome and, through some strategy to secure your promise to share the fruits of whatever you found ..
We are faced with a war of annihilation. Our allies are few and those we have, while valiant are small in number. We cannot come to you though to gaze on the Long Valley would be a great comfort . As a child we walked the woods of Elfhome ..
With this in mind we have decided to place the book in your hands without prior commitment or promises on your behalf. We are resolved on this course for a number of reasons. Foremost is our conviction that the Elves are an honourable race, and will do all that honour requires. When war comes the Reivers will send an army against Elfhome. They have no particular animus against the Elves but their masters will insist. You must find a way to defend your homes while also securing the means to take on this quest and prosecute it to a successful conclusion. We are aware of the work you do in secret to defend the Land and its people. It is now the hour in which you must make an open declaration in support of the forces that oppose the Enemy. This cannot long be delayed.
Mira.
Queen of the Dasatii
Desolation
The meat would probably kill them but they were dead anyway. Someone got a fire going. Shel got the brains . With luck they were diseased. The fur was thick. It would make good pelts to keep out the cold. Shame it had to be buried but if anyone saw it they would snitch and the bosses would know:
Where d’you get this, you filth?
What d’you do with the rest of it?
Is there any of it left?
Who helped you?
Questions asked with blows and kicks. They couldn’t get anyone to keep an eye out. It probably wouldn’t have done much good but they might have had a chance to make up a story. Pin it on Shel. Say it was his idea. Shel was a snitch. No one liked snitches.. They would be taken to the kitchens for the cook to look at them. Anyone with flesh on him would be flensed, made into a stew for the gliders. They loved their meat, the gliders. Blood, meat and fat mixed with oats kept them flying...
The best were gone for soldiers, the women to warm the bed of a thrall. If she was especially toothsome she might catch the eye of a full blood.. Not that anything would ever warm them. What happened to the children didn’t bear thinking about.
Some were runaways from plantations down South. Come up here to get away from a hard life. A hard life…. Didn’t know they were born, that was their trouble. Most were taken in the collections when villages paid the tithe. Word was , next year it would be every four months. Villages were emptying. When they got to the city they faced anotherr set of problems but at least they were out of reach from the necksuckers. For now at least...The remains of the bear were taken to the kitchen. On the way they passed the Guard’s Office . Someone high up had started asking for a list of all animals found dead. Seemed a bit excessive. It was only rotten meat. The bosses had plenty of the fresh kind.
An old man hobbled through the main gate. Huddled from the wind under layers of fur, his boots sla
pped on wet cobbles. He climbed the back stairs to his room. The key hung from a hook by the door. He hurried inside grateful for the heat that greeted him. The windows were narrow, painted black. Barzum would rise shortly and he would have to be prepared. He pottered about, making coffee, an indulgence permitted to him as well as meals in the kitchen, laundry, wood for the fire and books. He had lived up here so long home was a distant memory.
Cold air touched the nape of his neck. He turned and bowed to the vampire lord... In the North everything was dangerous. Snow,ice,wind, glaciers, hunger, disease, violence, anything could kill. It was more than physical danger that radiated from the figure that towered over him. .“Do not fear who kills the body, who kills the Soul is the true enemy”
The lesser lordlings, liked the terror they inspired. The High Lord was above all that. Not for him the whimpering of women raped , the agony of fathers watching as their children were butchered.. He preferred the anguish that came with the end of hope.
Those who hated Barzum asked how he and not another had become Lord of the Vampire nation. Some said it was his lineage. A direct descendant of Shabag, the blood of the founder ran in his veins. Vampires were no respecters of tradition. They laughed at stories about the vampire that could not control its appetites but they were all the same when it came to it. Put a human in a room with a vampire and tell him that if he waited until tomorrow night he would have three even nicer. What would he do ? He would feed. That was what made Barzum different. Barzum would wait . The following night he would feed. To bind their loyalty he would have one and give the others to his lieutenants.
“My Lord Barzum”He bowed low. The years had rewarded him with the self control required to live with monsters. No one had survived as long. But then he had a reason A spark gleamed in the depth of his being. At times the vampire looked at him, a strange expression on its vulpine face. In those moments, to his absolute terror, he thought the vampire had seen it. When that happened he struggled to control his thoughts. They smelt of carrion, even the females.