“This is going to be fun,” Tavris says as he stretches his arm. “First one to the afterlife has to buy the first twenty rounds of drinks. I plan on going to Eporwil’s tavern when I’m claimed, so I hope to see the rest of you there.”
“I’m sure our chosen deities will let us visit,” Gerdo whispers, adding his fist to the salute and flashing his fangs. Patting one of his swords, he feels the blade shivering from his own excitement. “I agree with Scorpion. Thank you for accepting me even though we fight against my people. Most would see me as a potential threat, but you see me as a friend. To be honest, I don’t know where Dawn Fangs go when they die. So we’ll see what happens.”
“Or we all could live through this and I can buy the first two rounds to thank you for helping me,” Delvin interjects with a charming smirk. Through the blindfold, he looks from one friend to the other and releases the tension in his muscles. “Let’s go.”
With a small bump of their fists, the mercenaries cautiously stand and make their way down the hill. Pelo holds Delvin’s hand as the cloaked figures approach the encampment, only a few people looking in their direction. The guards stop the warriors to inspect their weapons, the checks nothing more than sliding the blade in and out of the scabbard. Satisfied with the quality of the swords and the look of the newcomers, the Osprey soldiers wave the mercenaries into the camp.
Walking around a square tent, they find themselves on one of the main roads where people are hurrying in every direction. Many of the tribespeople pause to give a quick glance at the strangers before they rush back to their errands. Gerdo grins when he overhears that all of the attention is aimed at their boss, the blind warrior already rumored to be the victim of a vampire attack. With Delvin becoming a curiosity for the locals, Scorpion is free to subtly peek into tents and around corners for signs of the Dawn Fangs. There is no consistency among the simple shelters, making it difficult for the mercenaries to discern a true Osprey tribe member from a prisoner of war. Even the roaming guards wear various armors and weapons, none of them moving with the grace and power of a vampire. Decorations on the tents are so mixed that they wonder if there are people of different tribes sharing living quarters.
“Everyone is human, so we can make a small scene to get directions,” Gerdo whispers when he pretends to bump into Delvin. The small impact is exaggerated by both men, resulting in them tumbling to the ground. “Sorry about that, boss. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Ears are still ringing from the last battle, so my balance is off. Are you sure we can find a decent healer here? This looks more like a refugee camp than a town.”
“Well I’m not stumbling all over this land in search of something that meets your prissy standards, Mr. Rintz,” Delvin replies, his voice taking on a cruel edge. He gropes his way to where Pelo is standing and smacks the man in the head when they make contact. “Can you move any slower when it comes to helping me? You’re more worthless as a walking stick than a warrior.”
“You’re just grumpy because you’re hungry and in pain,” Pelo says with a goofy smile. He leans with the next shot to his head, softening the already gentle blow. “We lost two good friends and you got hurt, so your temper is high. Maybe we can find a place to eat and get some information on a healer. See any place you like, boss?”
“Did you really just ask me that?”
“Sorry. I’m not used to you being blind. It only happened recently.”
“See anything from up there, Tavris? Maybe a pot big enough to toss our slow-witted friend into?”
Pelo leans forward to help Delvin stand and whispers, “Do you have to be so mean?”
“Sorry about that, but I wanted to come off as a bastard. Great job going along with it, so don’t take the slow-witted remark personally.”
Tavris grunts as if he is the mute muscle of the group and sternly points toward the wooden tower. Several people near him show a look of shock and fear, which causes him to take a longer look at the windowless structure. Now that he is closer, the mercenary can see that there are hooks and spikes along the rounded corners. Bodies are hanging from the top five floors, their blood having dripped down to the ground. Tavris holds back a growl when he realizes that some of the innocent people are alive and twitching. Deciding that it is best to avoid the disturbing building, he points toward a distant tent with a softer grunt and a shrug that makes him look like a fool.
“We could ask someone instead of guessing, old friend,” Scorpion says as he walks toward a group of tribespeople cleaning pots. They run away as soon as he comes within reach, their metal cookware left outside the tent that they close behind them. “Can anyone tell us if there is a healer in the encampment? My friends and I are outsiders sent to gather herbs. We were attacked by a pride of hooded lions and our boss was blinded. All we want to know is if we can find help here or if we should search for another tribe.”
One of the nearby guards approaches the warriors, his wooden spear held out in case they attack. “Go to the large blue tent on the left side of the tower. They have herbs and a few healers, but there are no priests here. I suggest you finish your business and leave. Unless you wish to join the new kingdom.”
“New kingdom?” Pelo asks before his friends can stop him. “Sorry. I’m naturally curious.”
“We’re not the ones to answer your question,” the guards reply, nodding to his friends as he returns to them.
Delvin extends his hand to the left of where the man once stood. “Thanks for the help. We’ll be out of your way within the hour. Lead the way, Pelo.”
The mercenaries are watched as they walk toward the blue tent, the tension getting thicker as they pass the tower. With a chorus of muttered curses, they see that their destination is nothing more than a hastily erected hospital. Beds with severely injured tribesmen are under the patched canopy and the healers are nothing more than rag wearing slaves, their appearance bringing their expertise into doubt. All of the workers have the Osprey Tribe brand on their chest, which puts Delvin and his friends on edge. The dying patients are hapless foreigners or from other tribes and it is quickly apparent that there is no saving most of them. With the numbing herbs that have been harvested from the plains, the slaves do their best to atone for their people’s sins and ease the suffering of the victims.
Averting his gaze, a middle-aged man takes Delvin by the hand and guides him to a wicker chair. He pats the warrior on the hand and goes to a long table while the other mercenaries cautiously take positions around the champion. They keep their hands near their weapons while watching for any sign of danger. Being so close to the tower makes their skin crawl and the occasional moan of agony chills their blood. Tavris notices Pelo staring at the bodies hanging on the building and gives him a solid thump on the shoulder to redirect his attention. Seeing the anxiety in the weasel-faced man’s eyes, the towering figure flashes a wolfish grin to put his friend at ease.
With his companions standing guard, Delvin adjusts his blindfold and watches the hospital workers. He watches the man who sat him down, the disheveled figure grinding dry herbs with a battered mortar and pestle. His attention falls on a couple helping a dying elf maiden, their wrinkled faces poking at his memory. It is when the woman glances at him that he sees her ice blue eyes, one of which is ringed by an ugly bruise. Her husband scratches his brown and white hair and follows his wife’s gaze, both of them curious about the blind warrior. They turn away to go back to their patient, each one taking a hand and administering a numbing powder to the elf’s wounded chest.
“Hey, guys, I think those are my parents,” Delvin whispers as he continues watching the couple. Keeping up appearances, he gropes around and catches Gerdo by the ear to pull him closer. “Sorry about that, but I need a favor. Try to get the older couple with the female elf over here. Wait until they’re done and make sure to bump the guy who plans on helping me. We’re in trouble if he takes my blindfold off. Try to be subtle when you approach them.”
“Got it, boss.”
Fl
exing his fingers, Gerdo walks toward the couple and accidentally trips the other man as he heads back to Delvin. The powdered herbs are scattered across the matted grass and the mercenary kneels to help the slave back to his feet. He senses the elf is taking her last breath as he pats the man clean of the fresh layer of dust and fixes his dirty shirt. Gerdo catches the confused tribesman’s gaze and puts an arm around his shoulder, guiding him to an elderly man who is losing consciousness. The mercenary shivers at the sight of the patient’s seeping stomach wound that is leaking onto the bed. With a gulp, the Dawn Fang swallows his anger and sits the stunned slave on a stool next to the dying foreigner.
“He doesn’t have long while my boss has years ahead of him,” Gerdo says to the tribesman, charming him into staying with the dying man. Slowly backing away, he goes to the couple and bows his head while they close the dead elf’s eyes. “Excuse me, but would you be able to examine my friend. He was blinded in a fight and we were hoping local healers could tell us if it is permanent. I know it is bad form to ask after this poor woman’s death, but the one that was supposed to help us has gone to another patient.”
“We will be with you in a few minutes,” the woman promises, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. With a tight squeeze to her husband’s hand, she goes about cleaning the area and weakly gestures for someone to carry the body away. “I can’t make any promises because we don’t have anything to handle injuries of that severity. All of our priests have either fled or been killed by the . . . Path Lords. My husband and I can ease his pain, but neither of us are trained beyond basic herbalism.”
“The situation sounds terrible here,” the Dawn Fang says, ignoring the subtle gesturing of Delvin. When the couple looks away, he snatches a pebble from the ground and flicks it into the chin of his impatient friend. “Is there a war going on? We saw some destroyed encampments, but never saw any armies. Are there monsters that you might need eliminated? My friends and I are more than willing to help.”
“You could say we have an infestation,” the husband states with a chuckle. He puts a surprisingly strong hand on the warrior’s shoulder and reveals a spark of despair in his brown eyes. “Thank you for your concern, outsider. My name is Aaron and this is my wife Naomi. We really don’t want to pull you into this situation. Too many have died because of our people’s mistakes. Tell your boss that we will be with him soon.”
“Thank you and may there be a blessing on your family,” Gerdo says, bowing his head while keeping an eye on the couple. Naomi tears up and hides it with a cough that settles when her husband hugs her. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”
Aaron guides the warrior away from his wife to avoid upsetting her even further. “It wasn’t your fault because you didn’t know. We had several children and have lost all of them over the years. The oldest died in the wilderness over fifteen years ago and we thought we were cursed because we lost him. Two years later, we were blessed with a daughter and another son. They . . . were killed by the monsters that currently plague the plains. As I said before, too many have died because of our mistakes.”
“You have my deepest condolences. My companions and I will wait patiently.”
Gerdo is returning to his friends when the familiar scent of blood mixed with saliva strikes his nose. He pauses when three figures appear around the other mercenaries, the newcomers baring their fangs. Tavris and Scorpion are immediately subdued by a four-armed Dawn Fang, the warriors’ necks pinned between two blades each. A female vampire with vivid red hair and glistening eyes grips Pelo by the throat, hoisting the thrashing man off the ground. Gerdo is afraid that the third enemy will attack Delvin, but the hairless man’s skin becomes metal and he runs backwards to drive an armored elbow into the Dawn Fang’s gut. With a growl of rage, the lanky warrior hurls his opponent through a wall of the tent and takes a step to follow up with another attack. A piercing screech erupts from the woman holding Pelo, bursting Gerdo’s eardrums and causing him to collapse in a bleeding heap. The metallic vampire charges back and is about to smash the fallen mercenary’s head into the earth when he curls into a twitching mass of agony.
“Behave yourself, Elrin. Your dear wife already took care of this pest,” a grinning man with white hair says, his sword-like tongue peeling away the metal cheek of his ally. The calm Dawn Fang approaches Delvin and puts his hands on the warrior’s legs. Releasing a pleasant sigh, the vampire removes the blindfold and stares into a set of blue eyes that have haunted his dreams for fifteen years. “Been such a long time, Smelly Delly. Stupid nickname from a stupid kid, but I’m sure it helps jog your memory. My friends and I have been looking forward to this reunion for a very long time. Welcome home, Delvin.”
*****
A large crowd has gathered as the sun slinks toward the conifers and Vir, the red moon peeks over the opposite horizon. Ult, the yellow moon can be seen to the north, but it is too far away to add its amber light to the stretching crimson. The creeping beams are an eerie sight as Delvin and his friends are standing in front of the body-covered tower. Blood seeps from between the logs, revealing that more than sap has been used to construct the building. Many tents have been taken down and replaced with shaky scaffolds to allow the entire encampment to get a clear view of the mercenaries and whatever painful events await them. A special tower with no ladder has been erected behind the prisoners, Delvin’s terrified parents having been placed there. The only ways down are to jump from the crippling height or wait for one of the Dawn Fangs to retrieve them.
The four vampiric Path Lords stand within the wooden tower’s open doorway, basking in the attention of the tribe. They know it is fear and hate, but the former bullies have come to relish such emotions over being loved and respected. After two hours of keeping his prisoners waiting in silence, the white-haired Dawn Fang walks forward and stops within reach of Delvin. He opens his mouth to speak, but stops when his childhood victim yawns and stretches his arms over his head.
“The hair is different, but I’m guessing you’re Yeldar,” the champion says, coming nose to nose with the vampire. He smirks at the intimidating lip curl that his enemy attempts, the motion revealing a pearly fang. “You mentioned the metal guy is Elrin, which means the four-armed man is Riak. Of course the woman is Teka who finally grew into her ears. She’s looking very lovely for a heartless monster! Is this where you tell me that it’s my fault for whatever led to you becoming a Dawn Fang?”
“You’re not the crying wimp I remember,” Yeldar states, a crimson ring appearing around his eyes. He taps the warrior’s shoulder to send a burst of pain through the man’s veins, but Delvin only falls to his hands and knees. “Still no tears. Guess it’s true that you’re both the Mercenary Prince and a champion. Most people don’t want to give you a second thought, but we knew something had to be done to put you back in your place. Not just that, but make you pay for what you did to us.”
“Pathetic whelps,” Gerdo mutters, causing Elrin to lumber out of the doorway. The older Dawn Fang hisses and bares his fangs, giving the metallic figure a reason to pause. “At least you know to be cautious around your elders. Leave my friend alone or I will paint the plains with your entrails.”
“I can smell your weakness from here!” Teka playfully shouts as she leaps onto her companion’s back. She kisses Elrin on the cheek and licks her lips, which makes them become fuller and redder. “My husband would have destroyed you if Yeldar hadn’t called him back. So shut up and stay out of our business.”
“Mess with our boss and it becomes our business,” Pelo declares while rubbing at the bruises on his neck. He meets the woman’s gaze and feels a warmth run through his body until Scorpion steps between them. “That was uncomfortable. Charm stare, huh?”
The masked warrior nods his head and, unknown to the female Dawn Fang, closes his eyes when facing her. “Appears that way. Makes one wonder how loyal she is to her husband. He seems the easily angered type and she certainly appears to be attention starved. What do you thin
k about our new friends, Tavris?”
“I think we should be quiet and let Delvin handle this,” the blonde mercenary replies, his hand remaining on the hilt of his claymore. A metallic taste in his mouth tells him how scared he is of the four vampires, but Tavris refuses to reveal his fear. “This is what he came here to do and I’m backing him up. Besides, I’m curious to find out how they went from bullies to warlords. It’s a fairly common tale, but it doesn’t usually include Dawn Fangs. After all, I always thought they were kept in check by someone.”
“The Children of Clyde bow to no one and take what they want,” Yeldar declares with a lick of his lips. The moment he turns to Tavris, Delvin’s fist strikes him in the nose and harmlessly cocks his head to the side. “Still able to handle a lot of pain. Though now it seems you can fight back, runt.”
Yeldar strikes Delvin with a kick so fast that only his friends and Gerdo can follow it. The blow hits with a meaty thud and knocks the champion against the base of the tower. Cutting his thumbs with his sharp tongue, the vampire releases two drops of blood to summon a pair of wights from the earth. The creatures reach out and hungrily wiggle fingers that crackle with the promise of an icy death. Yeldar’s grin and the chuckling of his friends disappear when Delvin draws his bastard sword and destroys their undead servants with a few casual swings. The irritated Dawn Fang launches his tongue at his enemy’s back, but the champion blocks the slimy weapon with his shield and pins it to the ground with the tip of his blade. The gurgled cry of Yeldar grows louder when the bastard sword is driven further into the earth and yanked out with a twist.
“No more being nice and calm. I want answers and I’m going to get them,” Delvin states as he aims his weapon at the vampire. The crowd cheers and gets thicker as the tribespeople close in for a better look at their possible salvation. “You four took me out to the ice and let me float out to sea. Don’t think I forgot about that. Part of me still wants revenge and you being blood-thirsty vampires makes it even easier to rationalize. No offense, Gerdo. I only meant they’re monsters and not the rest of your kind.”
The Mercenary Prince (Legends of Windemere Book 9) Page 25