by Jon F. Merz
He thought about his family and where he’d grown up. And how far he’d come from there since meeting Felix. In some ways, he hardly recognized the man he’d become without truly thinking about it.
He’d left the Black Forest area of Bavaria when he was but sixteen, determining to strike out on his own and leave his family behind. The farm they owned held no allure for Wolfric. And while he felt selfish for deserting his family, a bigger part of him wanted out of there and the constraints that life promised. Wolfric wanted freedom to go wherever and do whatever. He wanted to try new things, see new places, and be the man he felt he was destined to become outside of the bucolic life he’d been born to.
He’d been carefree and careless in his exploits. He owed allegiance to no one. And he was scattered and lacked any sort of focus.
Yet, he’d been happy.
Or at least, that’s what he’d told himself during those times when he’d seduced a barmaid and then bedded down in some smelly stable, listening to the rain hit the roof, lulling him off to a sleep filled with visions of buxom women and as much ale as he could drink down.
But since meeting Felix, he’d become aware of how much happier he was. Even with the tests and the exhausting physical regimen of training, Wolfric had never felt more alive. He relished the chance to prove himself worthy of becoming a Fixer. He marveled at how Felix could so effortlessly do what he did and admired the composure of his teacher no matter the circumstances. Felix seemed to move seamlessly through whatever environment they were operating in and Wolfric wanted that ability more than anything he’d wanted before in his life.
But how long would it take? How long would he be forced to test himself before Felix finally gave his acknowledgment that Wolfric had become what he was supposed to become? How many more tests would there be and what would the nature of those examinations be? He felt certain they would test every ounce of him. Felix seemed particularly interested in seeing if Wolfric had a point beyond which he could not venture. Was there some sort of breaking point where Wolfric would throw up his hands and say, “I quit?”
The option was always there, he knew. But what awaited him at that option was death, if Felix was to be believed. If the Council had truly given their judgment that he should be executed if things didn’t work out, then how in the world could Wolfric even dream about quitting? To do so was inviting a death sentence upon himself.
No, he would hang in there still. He would prove to Felix that he was more than capable of becoming a Fixer, that he could be trusted to carry out the most sensitive missions handed down by the Council, and execute them without fail. He would become everything that Felix apparently saw in him and he would do so without question.
He had no choice.
Hopefully, Felix would reward him with his respect when this was all said and done. All Wolfric had to do was hang in there, meet the challenges and keep going for as long as-
-Wolfric jerked awake and looked around hurriedly. How much time had just passed? How long had he been out? He wasn’t even aware that he’d allowed his eyes to close. The last thing he remembered was staring off into the depths of the night while the fire crackled in the background of his thoughts.
And then…
Wolfric chided himself for letting his mind wander so carelessly. If Felix had awoken and found him like this, he would have failed Wolfric for inattention. But he hadn’t fallen asleep, had he? If he had, wouldn’t he feel more refreshed than he actually did? Perhaps his mind had simply wandered far from where it needed to be.
In any event, things still looked safe around the camp.
And most importantly, Felix was still asleep.
Wolfric took a deep breath, trying to flush himself full of air and energy. He risked a small sip from the flask he carried and felt the burst of energy hit his bloodstream. That helped. But only for a little while. Once it had worn off, he was back to feeling as sleepy as ever.
For the rest of the night, Wolfric alternated between composing freeform raunchy poetry that combined several languages to better rhyme the lines and trying to remain balanced on first one leg and then another. Whatever it took to stay awake, he would do. Twice, he made himself laugh out loud at the poetry and he fell over more times than that trying to stay balanced.
When the first rays of sunlight finally stretched over the eastern horizon, Wolfric felt as though he’d drunk far too much ale and was giggling to himself almost constantly as the stupor melted the last remaining bits of his steadfast resolve.
In his peripheral vision, Felix yawned and stretched his arms overhead.
At least someone had slept well through the night.
“Good morning,” said Wolfric. Although he sensed that it probably came out sounding more like, “Goooomarnnnnn.”
Felix grinned. “And how are you feeling right now?”
“Awful,” said Wolfric.
“Excellent,” said Felix. He got to his feet and rolled his bedding. “We’ll eat and be off in a few minutes then.” He eyed Wolfric. “I would make sure that you don’t fall asleep while we are riding. The passages around here are particularly treacherous. Any inattentiveness on your part could spell disaster for us both.”
“I’ll be following you every step of the way,” said Wolfric.
“Will you now?” asked Felix. “That’s awfully funny, actually.”
“Why so?”
“Because you’re the one who will be leading us today, my friend.” Felix winked. “So, do take care.”
Chapter 19
“You’re joking.”
Felix shook his head. “Most certainly not. You are the lead today. Take a shot of blood and let’s get on with it.”
Wolfric frowned but did as he was told. The blood tasted good going down and he felt a measure of alertness a moment later when the life-force energy hit his entire body and reinvigorated him. He knew it wouldn’t last, however, as his experience throughout the night had taught him.
He’d known this was coming, but part of him had hoped that Felix would at least allow him to follow behind. If his steed was as well-trained as it seemed to be, Wolfric might have even been able to steal a few winks as they traveled.
But Felix had known this and therefore, he’d made the task all the more difficult by forcing Wolfric to take the lead. While his teacher scattered the remains of their fire, Wolfric saddled his mount and then swung astride the horse. Even the horse seemed revitalized by the rest he’d enjoyed overnight.
Everyone was rested but Wolfric.
Part of him grew angry at this fact. What was the point in forcing him to go without sleep? Why endanger them recklessly in this regard? If he led them to disaster, then what would it have proven? That Wolfric couldn’t function without sleep? Most people couldn’t, he thought.
Stupid.
“If you’re done,” said Felix then breaking into his inner monologue, “we should get going.”
Wolfric didn’t say anything at first, but then choked down his anger and looked at his teacher. “Which way?”
“East as the trail goes,” said Felix. “Mind the footing and the horses should look after us well. But you’ll have to be keen and keep your wits about you at all times. Sometimes the horses have a mind to take a different path and you’ll need to keep it under control lest we end up lost. And being lost is not something we want to be in these parts.”
“As you’ve said.” Wolfric checked the sun’s position in the sky and steered his horse back onto the path they’d been following since entering Transylvania. Slowly, he allowed his horse to thread its way down the path deeper into the mountains that surrounded them.
If he’d been more awake, he might have noticed the trees that sprouted alongside the trail. Stubby conifers with mangled branches that twisted and jutted at obscene angles with hardly any growth upon them. The cold, late autumn winds had demolished any of the remnants of the previous growing season and left behind the twisted hulks to endure another harsh winter exposed as
they all were. They looked like skeletons huddling together, their withered bones creaking and groaning amid the breezes that slashed at them daily.
Wolfric kept his eyes up, but his body felt slouched as the horse continued to meander down the trail. Despite the gales that assailed them and the cold drizzle that fell from the sky, Wolfric could barely keep himself awake. The drowsiness he’d felt the previous night gave way to a fatigue that coupled with a sense of despair, as if he could no longer go on and that every step he was forced to take left him feeling completely and totally drained.
He wanted to give up. He wanted to quit. Anything to just be able to slide from his saddle into the ground, curl up in his cloak, and fall asleep for a thousand years. He no longer cared about being a Fixer. All he desired was sleep’s sweet embrace. He would have gladly drunk a poison to die so long as he could dream for the ages and never worry again about needing to stay awake.
His horse jerked its head to the side of the trail and sniffed long and loud. A cloud of steam arose from its nostrils and in that instance, Wolfric felt his gut seize up.
“Felix-“
They attacked without warning, choosing the curve in the trail as it leveled and widened out for their attack, knowing the ground would prove most advantageous there.
Four men leapt out in front of them before Wolfric could urge his mount to run the over. One of the attackers grabbed at the bit in his horse’s mouth while the others went for Felix’s horse.
A gunshot rang out and one of the attackers fell, crying to the ground.
More gunshots now.
Wolfric felt himself fumbling for his pistol, trying to get it out and leveled on the man coming at him with a saber. Wolfric felt like he was moving in slow motion, as if his limbs were stuck in a glue that restricted him. How was he going to get the shot off before he was run through?
The report, when it came, erupted from his pistol and jerked his hand back and away. He fell from his horse to the ground below, getting caught up in his cloak as he tried to rip his sword free of its sheath. He sensed movement behind him and cut without thinking, convinced he was far too slow to be any sort of good at defending himself.
He felt the sword bite into someone and then a sharp cry of pain and the scent of human blood on the air. Another gunshot rang out followed by the sound of steel against steel.
It all seemed like it was taking place far away from Wolfric. As if he were watching the scene unfold outside of his own body. He saw himself duck to avoid a slash aimed at removing his head from his shoulders, then cutting into the attacker, and killing him even as he moved to engage another attacker, this one leveling a pistol at his heart.
Wolfric charged in, knocking the man’s arm offline and then spinning around the arm to stab him right through the heart. He moved this way and that, stabbing and slashing and cutting as if he was possessed by some spirit not entirely his own. He wondered how Felix was doing, but the thought zipped through his brain so fast that he soon forgot all about it.
At last, the sounds of battle died and Wolfric looked at the ground around him. Blood stained it a deep maroon mixing with the brown dirt to form a coppery mud slick to the touch. His feet slipped out from under him and Wolfric fell, staining his trousers as he did so.
He rose to one knee and then managed to swing himself back up onto his horse. He gripped the saddle pommel with both hands and without even checking to see how Felix was, he dug his heels into the horse’s side. He was doing things now by rote memory alone. He had no dream of thought any longer. Just the sole desire to continue on with his mission and get them to their destination.
As his horse moved down the trail, the effects of the battle didn’t even register with Wolfric. Had he been rested, he might have wondered how his reactions during this battle had shifted since the one on the previous day. But he could no longer even think about anything aside from continuing on with the journey.
That was all that mattered.
That was all that occupied his mind.
His eyes drooped and his body slumped forward in the saddle.
When he fell from it, the impact of the ground didn’t even wake him.
The darkness drained away from his mind when he finally came to.
His eyes fluttered open and the first thing that registered was the warmth of sunlight upon his face, streaming down from high overhead, staving off the harsh winds that had plagued them throughout their journey.
Warmth.
He yawned.
Remembered what had happened.
And jerked up to a sitting position.
Looked around.
Felix.
His teacher sat some distance away, tending to the fire. Where were they? How had they gotten here? The last memory he was able to recall was of leaving the site of the ambush by the bandits. But what had happened after that?
The realization that he’d fallen asleep and tumbled from his saddle came at him with the force of a brick to his head. He frowned and felt a sense of dread invading his soul. The rest he’d craved had been his, but now the realization that he had failed bit into it with a savagery he hadn’t expected.
“I’m sorry, Felix.”
His teacher turned around. “So. You are awake at last.”
Wolfric got to his feet and walked over to the fire. As he did so, Felix handed him a bit of rabbit on a stick. Wolfric chewed it thoughtfully and then sighed.
“I thought I could stay awake. I’m sorry I failed you.”
Felix smiled. “You didn’t fail, Wolfric. You did quite well, actually.”
“But I fell asleep.”
Felix snorted. “You collapsed. There’s a difference. You pushed yourself to the absolute brink and when your body could no longer continue, it shut itself off. There’s a big difference between quitting and pushing beyond your limits to the point that your body rebels and takes control That is what happened. And that is what was supposed to have happened.”
“So…I didn’t fail?”
“Not at all,” said Felix. “And you even managed to hold your own during the ambush. That’s impressive.” He gestured for Wolfric to sit next to the fire. “Now sit and eat. We are almost to Malancrav.”
“We are?”
“Indeed. And this is, at last, where our real work shall begin.”
Chapter 20
The high, desolate craggy peaks they had been traveling through slowly gave way to deep forests as they descended into the valley that housed the town of Malancrav. Despite the winter winds blowing in, the pines still gave the area a rich, vibrancy of green that covered the slopes of the mountains closer to the village. The trail they had been picking their way along became wider now and it was easier to ride two abreast than it had been. Wolfric felt as though they had passed through the most dangerous part of their journey, but Felix was quick to point out that danger could lurk anywhere.
“We must always be vigilant. Especially since we will be coming into an area that is highly suspicious of outsiders. Malancrav is home to a large Saxon community and their distrust of anyone not of their ilk is legendary. I expect we will be greeted with a mixture of suspicion and outright hatred. Therefore, we must do our best not to give them cause for alarm.”
“I’ll follow your lead,” said Wolfric. He felt much better now that he had actually been able to rest. He still had no idea how they’d made it all the way to outskirts of the village, but he suspected Felix had scooped him up and simply laid him over the back of his horse, continuing on until they had arrived at their last camp.
“Don’t forget that according to the message I received, they’ve been dealing with incidents which will no doubt make them even more intolerant of nosey outsiders. Our task is difficult enough but made even more so by the fact that we will need to conduct an investigation without alerting them to the true nature of our quest.”
“Meaning we will need some type of story to tell them as reason for our arrival.”
“Indeed,” said Fe
lix. “We are armed, so pretending to be missionaries would be foolish.”
“Father and son embarking on an adventure together to see a part of the world not yet explored by us?”
Felix shrugged. “It’s simple enough, and most times, the simpler the story, the easier it is to sell to those you wish to fool. Complicated lies have a way of unraveling at the most inopportune times.”
“So it’s settled then. We’ll use our real names, I take it?”
Felix nodded. “Probably smarter to do it that way, yes.”
“Are we passing through on our way to Bucharest or are we taking our time?”
Felix frowned. “Bucharest would make the most sense, I suppose. But we are in no rush to get there, so perhaps we will become enamored of the local churches or something. Remember, they will be extremely superstitious. Therefore, we must show that we are pious creatures who love the church. That will help allay their suspicions about us.”
“I’ve known plenty of religious hypocrites in my time,” said Wolfric. “Surely they will not think we are saints.”
“Of course not, but a willingness to enter a church will go a long way toward making us appear less threatening. There’s also the added benefit of us arriving during a sunny day. The humans here think vampires cannot expose themselves to the sun lest they turn to dust.”
Wolfric nodded. “Duly noted.”
As they came down through the trees, the land suddenly cleared and a grand pasture stood before them on either side of the road. A stately manor house stood near what appeared to be an orchard and just beyond it, the imposing structure of a church loomed large.
“I’d wager the manor house belongs to whomever controls the village,” said Felix. “That is normally how it happens in places like this. The church will be the second most powerful entity in the village. As long as we’re properly respectful, we shouldn’t have any issues.”
“Shall we head for an inn and make our introductions?” asked Wolfric.