The Mercenary Prince (Legends of Windemere Book 9)

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “Why did you leave Nevra Coil!?” Delvin shouts, gripping Luke by the shoulders and shaking him. The blood that comes out during his friend’s coughing fit immediately dulls his rage, forcing him to ease the half-elf to the ground. “I’m sorry, Luke. Damn it! I kept thinking I made a mistake coming here. I let everyone down and now I’m in a mess. Why didn’t you stay to heal before finding me?”

  Luke wipes his mouth clean and takes a sniff of the air, his attention drifting to Mab. “I was nearly healed when I left Darkmill, but I pushed myself too much. Being in another form can reverse some damage, but I guess severe injuries are aggravated if I revert before my body is ready for the strain. Why are you with a Dawn Fang if that’s what you’re fighting? Is she a rogue or an outcast?”

  “Other way around, but I don’t have the time or patience to explain,” Mab replies, leaning over to get a better look at the half-elf’s sabers. “Elegant blades and I smell they’ve been touched by incredible magic. You could help us here and then take your friend. Though I guess it all depends on what Stephen wants with this Nyx.”

  “He’s going to rape her and break her spirit. She’s a channeler, so he wants her power.”

  “In that case you need to go now, Cunningham.”

  Delvin pats his friend on the shoulder and walks away, the matted blades of grass rising around him. He runs his finger along the winged stag that is emblazoned on his shield, knowing that he can use it to return to Nyx. Turning around, the warrior’s eyes fall on Samara and he remembers that his parents are still prisoners. Part of his mind whispers that they are nothing more than strangers to him while the woman he loves is in danger. The words to activate the spell are on the tip of his tongue when he looks back at Luke and sees the pain on his friend’s face.

  Closing his eyes, Delvin imagines how the battle with Stephen would go if he went off with the half-elf immediately. He guesses that the others are in worse shape than Luke, which means the chances of them currently heading for the fight are slim. That means it would only be the two warriors against Stephen and the forest tracker is too injured to be of much help. Even if Nyx is able to join the fight, the three champions could never defeat the immortal and would be annihilated. Growling in frustration, Delvin draws his sword and plunges it into the ground before smacking it across the hilt. Mab is the first person he sees when he opens his eyes and a new idea forms in his mind. A heavy weight feels like it is crushing his heart as he struggles to say what he knows is the smartest plan.

  “I’m going to stay here for a bit longer, Luke,” Delvin says, plucking his blade from the earth. With a tight grip on the weapon, he imagines cleaving Stephen’s head in half only for it to reform. “If we leave right now, the others probably won’t be there and you’re in no condition to fight. It would come down to me against Stephen and I can’t win that fight . . . yet. I want you to find out where that bastard is and if the others are on the way. Come back for me then and I’ll use the shield to get us there quickly.”

  “But what if he’s already done something to Nyx?” Luke argues, struggling to stay in his true form. Fur grows along his arms and his heartbeat is so loud that it is making his sound sight flicker on and off. “You can’t leave her to him. You know-”

  “I know, Callindor, but getting killed won’t save her!” the mercenary shouts, storming over to the other swordsman. With a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder, he kneels as if begging for forgiveness. “I have to trust that Nyx will find a way to keep him at bay. I don’t want her to be in pain, but I don’t want to be reckless and waste the one chance I’ll have to rescue her. If she hates me for this decision then at least she’ll do it while breathing.”

  “What are you going to do that will make a difference? You said you can’t beat Stephen.”

  Delvin grins at Mab, who nods her head and cracks her knuckles. “I said I couldn’t beat him yet. We both know there’s something strange about me. After all, I’m a champion and the rest of you are more than you seem. Mab here is going to train me and unlock whatever power I have that gained her attention. I won’t let her go easy on me and I’ll do everything I can to become stronger. Part of me knows that I only need one good push, so I’m betting on it happening in the time it takes for you to do what I’m asking.”

  “That’s a sloppy plan,” the Dawn Fang declares, a curious twinkle in her green eyes. With a flick of her wrist, she catches a single drop of Luke’s blood on her finger and pops it into her mouth. “Still, I agree that going after Stephen like this would be a mistake. If this Nyx is as powerful as her reputation then she stands a chance of keeping him at a distance. The boy enjoys games and torture, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s toying with her. If he knows about your intentions, Delvin, then he might even be waiting for you to find him.”

  “Can you really make him stronger before I get back?” Luke asks before his body is forced transform into the griffin. His voice is strained as it struggles out of the beast’s throat. “Please . . . not fail . . . Nyx left . . . to tell you . . . secret.”

  “I’ve got a few training ideas, but I don’t make those kinds of promises to strangers,” Mab replies, stepping away to let the beast take to the sky. She watches the griffin fly toward the north, its speed gradually increasing as the pain in its stomach fades. “This is all on your head, Delvin. I hope you understand what kind of game you’re playing. Do you realize what will happen if you’re wrong?”

  Delvin nods to Samara, who returns to leading them down the path, but he catches Mab by the arm before she passes. “I’m well aware that I won’t be able to remain with my friends if I make a mistake. That’s why you’re going to train me and I’ll fight Stephen whether you’re successful or not. Now, do you realize what will happen if you fail?”

  With a fang-baring smile, the Dark Mistress pats the mortal on the cheek. “Absolutely nothing that concerns me. Lucky for you, I don’t like failing and I refuse to hold back. So let’s go before our guide gets cold feet and tries to run. We have a lot of work ahead of us, Mercenary Prince.”

  13

  The three travelers spend most of their journey in silence as they trudge through the abandoned plains. Even when sparring with Mab, Delvin does nothing more than grunt and ask questions when he is not sure of her instructions. Samara remains out of their way and continues staring daggers at the vampire, the girl never gaining the courage to make another request. She spends the camping time watching her companions fight, but her attention routinely wanders away before she can learn anything. After two days of practicing, Delvin has yet to see the mysterious energy return and Mab routinely defeats him. His only victory is that it takes a little longer for her to win each match, but he has yet to come close to landing a single blow. Several times his frustration has gotten the best of him and the mercenary becomes wild with his swings until the Dawn Fang makes a small cut on his cheek. The sharp pain jolts him back to his senses, which always leads to him bowing in apology and sheathing his weapon.

  It is night when they stop within the shadow of a rock formation, a pride of hooded lions claiming the top. The predators stay away because of Mab, who is asleep for the first time since entering the plains. Even unconscious, there is a sense that she is aware of everything around her and will attack at the slightest threat. Giving the deadly woman space, Delvin and Samara tend to a small fire that they are using to cook a paltry dinner. The pork soup is taking a long time to boil over the weak flame and the silence is suffocating to the girl, who finally decides to ask a question that has been on her mind for a while.

  “Who’s Nyx?” Samara whispers, clearing her throat to speak a little louder. “Your friend made it sound like she’s someone very important to you. If she’s in danger then you should have gone to save her.”

  “Guess you weren’t really listening to that conversation,” Delvin mutters while ladling out some of the soup. With a forced smile, the exhausted warrior hands the bowl to the girl and takes a seat on the other side of the fir
e. “Nyx is one of my friends and I want it to be more. That’s all I have to say about it. As for me not racing to her rescue, the man who has her is too strong and I’d only get myself killed. I have a shot if Luke can give me an idea of the environment Stephen is hiding in and if our other friends will be there. With this bastard, it’s more about surviving until he leaves than killing him.”

  Slurping a spoonful of soup, she cringes at the surprising amount of salt in the meal. “Just sneak up on him and lop his head off. It isn’t like he’s a Dawn Fang, right?”

  The champion laughs at the possibility that it could be that easy, but he remembers how quickly his enemy reverses injuries. Yet he cannot stop smiling at the image of Stephen’s head tumbling to the ground. The twinge of joy Delvin gets from the thought makes him shudder and think more about holding Nyx. It is a foolish mistake because the more he visualizes the channeler, the deeper his frustration gets. He has lost count of how many times he has considered using the shield to return to her side and risk his life, but he is sure the number is higher than he realizes.

  “You’re in love with her,” Samara says, noticing the smile and how his hand strokes his winged stag emblem. “She gave you the shield, which you said could bring you back to her. So I guess it makes sense why you’re waiting. If you get yourself killed then you’ll never have a chance of being with her.”

  “I’m hoping that sounded better in your head,” Delvin replies, wondering if the girl knows how selfish she sounds. Yet he silently admits there is a part of him that refuses to die before getting a real chance with the channeler. “Things are complicated with Nyx and Stephen is much worse than a Dawn Fang. I’m not even sure if this hidden power of mine can do anything to him, but I feel it’s better than what I have now. Besides, Luke has managed to hurt the bastard and maybe I can give him an opening for a killing blow. It’s all going to depend on how things play out here and what the situation overall is.”

  “If I was a vampire then I could help you,” the girl mentions, her attention turning to the slumbering Dawn Fang. Cocking her head to the side, she curls her lips as if pretending to bare her nonexistent fangs. “Do you think you can convince Mab to turn me? I asked and she told me no, but you get along with her. She’ll listen to you.”

  “I think I’m more of a tool or a curiosity to her,” the champion admits as he chooses a ring to use on an empty mug. The hot coffee that pours into the dented cup smells rich and he licks his lips before taking a taste. “Not sure what makes you think I can convince her to do anything she doesn’t want to do. Just accept the rejection and be happy with what you are. Why would you want to be a Dawn Fang anyway? No offense to them, but it doesn’t sound like they have the easiest lives. From what Mab has said, most new vampires don’t make it out of their first two years because they cross the line.”

  “I could help the tribes and not have to run away. I could fight if I was a vampire.”

  “You can fight now if you want.”

  “I’d get killed. Dawn Fangs don’t die.”

  “Then Yeldar and the others are unbeatable and Gerdo is still out there.”

  “You know what I meant.”

  Delvin stands and turns to leave as he says, “No, Samara. I have no idea what you meant and I’m not sure you know either. You’re old enough to think before you speak and consider your choices carefully. I suggest you start doing that because it won’t be long before you have to choose between fighting and running. How much further do we have to travel?”

  Glaring and muttering curses, Samara finishes her meal and removes her boots to rub her aching feet. She examines the sky and counts the stars, picking out several constellations that tell her how close they are to the tribes’ haven. The roar of a hooded lion makes the girl grab her shoes and prepare to run away from the beasts. With a sigh, Samara realizes how her first reaction is to retreat and she briefly understands why Mab refuses to change her. Then she figures that she will have no need to run away if she gains the power of a Dawn Fang, so the stubborn woman is obviously wrong. Her thoughts return to Delvin’s question when she hears him clear his throat and gather the dirty dishes.

  “We’ll reach the haven by lunch tomorrow,” Samara replies, scanning the horizon for a glimpse of their destination. “I think it’s a hollowed out hill that you can enter from the top or a series of a tunnels with a disguised entrance. Honestly, I’m not sure what the place looks like, but I assume we’ll be stopped by guards.”

  “That makes sense, but I wish you mentioned that earlier,” Delvin states as he puts down their bedrolls. He pauses when he hears something move in the grass, relaxing only when he sees a harmless snake slither through the camp. “I’m hoping we don’t have any trouble when we meet the other tribes. There’s no telling how much time we have, so every delay will bring us closer to defeat. I want to work as if the Osprey Tribe is marching right now, which gives us two or three days at most to rally the others.”

  “They’ll need supplies and weapons.”

  “Only if they abandoned everything when they went into hiding, which I doubt.”

  “I hope you’re right because punches and kicks won’t do us any good.”

  Delvin glances at Mab and is struck by how odd it is that the vampire looks peaceful when she sleeps. Squinting at the woman, he notices a strange layer of dust has gathered over her entire body. He gets closer and begins to worry when she does not react when his breath is on her neck. Touching the faint powder makes his finger so numb that he cannot move the digit. Delvin is sure that the dust would hinder his other senses like they have done to the Dawn Fang. Slowly backing away, he tries to get to his sword and shield, which are by his bedroll. The warrior leaps for his gear when he hears a solitary footstep to his left, his movements causing more hidden enemies to charge.

  A heavy form hits Delvin from behind and tackles him away from his weapons. The hooded lion rolls the champion onto his back and pins him with a massive paw on his chest. Shadowy figures rise out of the tall grass and aim bows at the travelers, one of them firing a shot that strikes near the warrior’s ear. The rest of the tamed predators surround Mab, who remains asleep while the beasts’ manes spread wide to reveal their growling faces. Even with the Dawn Fang incapacitated, the animals are visibility nervous and hunkering down whenever they hear her gentle wheeze.

  After one of the scouts whistles, a slender figure covered in robes appears and chants to cast a magic net over the vampire. Mab’s eyes fly open and she roars loud enough to scare off the hooded lions, the barrage of arrows that strike only making her angrier. When she tries to escape into the shadows, the priest pulls on his spell to haul her back and is surprised at the sensation of resistance. The tug of war lasts only a few seconds before Mab shreds the net and the magical backlash sends her enemy slamming against the rocks. More arrows pelt her body, their piercing heads more irritating than painful.

  “Stop shooting her!” Delvin shouts as he calls his shield to him and knocks the hooded lion away. He dives in the way of several arrows and takes a hit to the thigh. His momentum causes him to stumble against the vampire, the enraged woman putting her claws against his chest before she recognizes her companion. “Just calm down and don’t kill anyone, Mab. These are the scouts, so let’s go peacefully and talk. We both know none of them can hurt you.”

  “I don’t like being ambushed,” Mab hisses as she drops her arm and flexes her clawed fingers. The sound of drawn bowstrings causes the edgy vampire to tuck her hands into her pockets. “Keep shooting because you won’t get anywhere. I’m more powerful than the Dawn Fangs that are causing you trouble. To be honest, my job is to eliminate them and any of their spawn that may pose a problem for the rest of us. My companion here suggested I enlist your help since there are more brats than I expected. The girl is-”

  “I brought them!” Samara announces, holding up her hands. A lump grows in her throat when she sees several of the archers aim their bows at her. “They wanted me to bring them her
e and that’s what I did because I was coming here anyway. I’m only the harmless guide, so you don’t have to worry about me. The woman is from the main colony of Dawn Fangs or whatever they’re called. She’s like an enforcer and the Path Lords of the Osprey Tribe broke their rules. So please let us meet the tribunal and plead our case.”

  Without a word, some of the tribespeople come closer to bind Delvin’s hands and put out the fire. They check Samara for weapons before a dwarf handcuffs her to his wrist and drags the girl away. Mab remains where she is until the priest aims a sparking finger at her, his bleeding nose making it difficult to take his threat seriously. The vampire shrugs and trudges ahead of the man, falling into step alongside Delvin. Neither of them know what to expect and he can tell that Mab is one annoyance away from abandoning him.

  “Would it help if I apologize for putting you through this?” he asks, wincing when a scout smacks him in the head.

  The Dawn Fang smiles, her exposed fangs causing the priest to increase the power of his threatening spell. “You know, this is turning out to be more fun than I’ve had in two hundred years. I might even take my time going home and return to my roots for a bit. There must be plenty of curious things to steal these days.”

  “You were a thief?”

  “Well, I sure wasn’t a diplomat. That means you do all the talking.”

  “And what are you going to do?”

  “Stand there and try not to scare anybody.”

  “Can you do that?”

  Mab retracts her fangs and softens her smile. “I’m going to try my best.”

  *****

  Hidden on top of a mesa that can only be reached by a specific path, all of the surviving tribes of the Yagervan Plains have gathered. Each group has claimed a spot to set up their encampment, the borders marked by path of branded flags that also help to create neutral walkways. Trading is still going strong and all of the people work to make sure nobody is in need, creating a sense of community throughout the area. Tall cliffs jut out of the rock formation to suspend baskets that carry archers who keep an eye out for danger. A basic pulley system has been built and attached to each of the camouflaged hides that dangle from the humming, stone towers. Their crystal tips sparkle as they maintain the magic that keeps this ancient haven a secret from the outside world.