Omens and Artifacts

by Elizabeth Hunter

  Ben knew the question was directed at him. Brennus might have been mad with hunger, but he wasn’t completely without reason. Ben reached down, managing to work his hand into the pocket of his trousers and grab the gold coin he’d collected from the streambed days before.

  “I come to pay tribute”—he held the gold coin in front of Brennus’s eyes—“at the Raven King’s stone.”

  Brennus blinked. “Ravens like ribbons…,” he muttered.

  “But they like silver more.” Ever so slowly, Ben scooted away from Brennus. He wiggled out from under the vampire’s body and knelt on the grass. He didn’t run. He held the gold in front of the vampire, who watched the coin as it glittered in the moonlight.

  “Can I offer my gold to the Raven King?” Ben flipped the coin over, and Brennus blinked.

  Abruptly, the vampire’s eyes moved from the coin to Ben’s face. “Who are you, mortal?”

  More and more reason returned to his eyes.

  “I’m the son of a scholar,” Ben said. “But I am seeking the Sanguine Raptor.” He caught himself. “The Fitheach Lann,” he said. “I came looking for the Raven’s blade.”

  “What need have you of my sword?” Brennus asked. “Are you a knight?”

  They were still speaking in Latin, and Ben had never been more grateful that his uncle considered it God’s language. At the time Brennus was buried, his English—if he even spoke it—would have been barely recognizable to Ben’s modern ears.

  “I seek the blade for one of your children,” he said.

  “That one?” Brennus curled his lip and nodded toward René, who was groaning and twisting in the dirt.

  “No. The one I serve is the son of Carwyn ap Bryn, who is the son of Maelona, your child.”

  A flicker of recognition. “This vampire is the son of Maelona’s child?”

  “Yes.”

  Something worked behind Brennus’s eyes, and Ben caught a flicker of who the old king might have been when reason still ruled him.

  “How fares my daughter, mortal? Do you serve her as well?”

  Well, shit. This probably wasn’t going to end well.

  “Maelona walked toward the dawn,” Tenzin said before Ben could speak. “She had joy in her life and in her blood. She only looked for peace.”

  Tears filled Brennus’s eyes and dripped down his cheeks.

  Ben said, “But Maelona’s son is alive, and he sired many children. And they sired children. Your clan is all over the world now.”

  “I care nothing for conquest,” Brennus said. “I only wish to rest in the earth.” Brennus blinked and his head darted up. His nostrils twitched and his eyes closed. “There is a creature roaming the woods. Release me, sida. I will hunt this beast and regain my strength.”

  “Will you attack this mortal?”

  “I give you my word I will not.”

  Tenzin caught Ben’s eye and he nodded. Slowly, he rose and walked to Tenzin’s side. When Ben reached her, Tenzin released Brennus, who ran into the dark woods without a backward glance.

  “Please tell me it’s a deer out there,” Ben said.

  “Pretty sure. Though Brennus may end up hunting cows for all we know.”

  A low moaning sound caused them both to turn.

  “Are you still on the ground?” Tenzin asked.

  René rolled over and Ben winced. The vampire’s throat looked like mangled meat. His neck had been gnawed on, and his face was pale from blood loss.

  “Need blood.” René’s eyes lit on Ben.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Tenzin said. “You’ve caused enough trouble tonight.”

  “How was I supposed to know he was alive?” René’s voice was barely more than a wheezing rasp. He wouldn’t heal until he got some blood, but Ben didn’t have any urge to help him out. He didn’t even let Tenzin drink from him, not that she needed blood very often at her age.

  “How were you supposed to know he was alive?” Ben asked. “By doing your research, asshole. And not just following after us like a dog looking for scraps.”

  Despite his pale face, René curled his lip and bared his fangs.

  “Give it up, René,” Tenzin said. “I hardly think this performance is going to impress the Ankers.”

  Ben cocked his head. “Is that who he’s working for? But why would they want—”

  “Tell you later,” Tenzin said. “Besides, René doesn’t care what the Ankers wanted the sword for, do you René? This was just a job to you.”

  Ben said, “He’s hired help. And not very good at it.”

  The hate flared in René’s eyes, but Ben was feeling cocky with the vampire on the ground. He squatted next to the Frenchman, close enough to taunt him but far enough to stay out of grabbing distance. “If you’re very nice, I’m sure Tenzin can fly to the house and get some blood-wine for you.”

  René looked between Ben and Tenzin, then he nodded slowly.

  “But you’re not getting the good stuff,” she said. “I don’t like you that much.” Then she knelt over him and plunged her blade into his shoulder, digging it into the ground and pinning René to the grass as he screamed in pain. “I can’t trust you to be civilized when you’re this injured. I know you’ll understand when you’re more rational.”

  Tenzin flew off, and Ben sat waiting in the cold churchyard, a giant pit on one side, a cursing vampire on the other, and a ravenous ancient hunting in the woods.

  Well, he definitely wasn’t bored.

  René continued to spew vile threats, but Ben had seen how deeply Tenzin’s blade had penetrated. René wasn’t getting off the ground, especially as weak as he was from blood loss.

  And considering what was hunting in the woods, Ben knew he should probably be more worried.

  Thanks, adrenalin.

  A few minutes later, Ben heard rustling in the bushes. He placed his hand on his hunting knife and took deliberate breaths to calm his pulse as Brennus walked out of the trees. His tension eased as the vampire drew nearer.

  Brennus was no longer the hunched figure that had emerged from the earth. His skin was flushed and his red hair and beard dripped with water. He must have splashed in the stream, because though his chest and arm muscles were filled in, Ben didn’t see a drop of blood.

  More important to Ben, reason had returned to the vampire’s arresting gaze. He stood at the edge of the churchyard, surveying the land and watching the human and vampire who stood before him. He frowned at the pinned René.

  “Is there a reason he has a sword in his shoulder?”

  Brennus was still speaking Latin, so Ben replied in kind. “Tenzin went to get him some blood. She didn’t trust him not to kill me.”

  “She is wise,” Brennus said. “Are you a day servant for the sida?”

  “You mean Tenzin?”

  “Yes.”

  Ben made a mental note to look up the word sida.

  “I’m her partner,” Ben said. “We work and travel together.”

  Brennus nodded. “In my time, it was not common for our kind to copulate with humans, though perhaps it is more acceptable now.”

  “What? No! No, it’s not like that.”

  Brennus looked skeptical. “Truly? Because I thought…”

  “Nope.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Ben blinked. “Yes. Quite sure.”

  “Because she’s very possessive.”

  “I’m her partner.”

  “I see,” Brennus said, still looking unconvinced. He stretched out his arms and twisted his torso like an athlete warming his muscles. “Well, the world is always changing. What year do they call it now? Who is the human king? What language does he speak? And by what name shall I call you?”

  Ben tried to sort through the barrage of questions. “No king,” he said. “Not right now anyway. Uh… most nations are kind of past the whole king thing.”

  Brennus frowned. “No kings?”

  “Nope. We’re trying democracy right now.”

  Brennus snorted
. “Good luck to you.”

  “And my name is Benjamin Vecchio. So I guess you can call me that.”

  “Well met, Benjamin Vecchio. In my time I had many human slaves, and I rarely killed them. Humans were protected in my household and considered honorable and necessary.”

  Really?

  “That’s… good to hear,” Ben said. “But I am not Tenzin’s slave.”

  “Where did your partner—as you call her—go to hunt?”

  “Not far. I’m sure she’ll be back soon.” Ben gestured at René. “He’s not in good shape.”

  “He will live.” Brennus went down on one knee and patted René’s shoulder. “My thanks, blood of my blood. You have fed your sire and restored him to health. The honor is yours.”

  Ben noticed how grateful René looked.

  So, so grateful.

  He bit back a smile as Tenzin landed, carrying a bottle of the blood-wine she’d ordered in London.

  Brennus said, “Ah sida, your… partner was just informing me that this land has no king.”

  “No, it has a queen, but she is nothing but a puppet. Common people make the laws and enforce them.”

  Brennus shook his head. “Madness.”

  “I know,” Tenzin said. “I try not to think about it too much.”

  Brennus motioned to René. “What shall I do with this one?”

  “He is of your line,” Tenzin said. “I have brought blood to heal him, but you may do with him what you would. He is the one who woke you from your rest.” She glanced at Ben.

  Okay, yes. Clearly, waking an ancient vampire from sleep was a bad thing. Lesson learned.

  René’s eyes looked panicked for a second before his face turned stoic. He looked… resigned. Ben almost felt sorry for him.

  “Despite his unwise actions, I approve of his courage,” Brennus said. “Though he disturbed me, I will let him live.”

  Tenzin held the bottle of blood-wine toward René but pulled it back at the last second. René whimpered.

  “Brennus,” she said. “I would offer this blood-wine to you first. It is only proper.”

  “You honor me,” Brennus said. “But I have no desire for wine.”

  “It is blood preserved with wine.”

  “Blood preserved in a glass bottle?”

  “It keeps for many years,” Tenzin said. “No rotting or spoiling.”

  “I must try this blood.” Brennus took the bottle, tipped it up, and took a drink. He smiled. “That is far more pleasant than whatever beast I drank from in the field.”

  “Probably a cow,” Ben muttered.

  “Indeed not,” Brennus said. “For the blood of the cow is second only to the blood of man. This was a strange and hairy white beast with a long neck and unpleasant disposition.”

  Oh shit. Well, the neighbors’ llamas had lived a long life. Probably.

  “But this blood-wine is excellent. Most excellent.” Brennus crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, watching as Tenzin bent down and offered the rest of the wine to René. “So, Benjamin Vecchio, tell me why you were here when I woke from my rest.”

  Ben said, “As I told you, I came to look for your sword.” And steal it.

  “Because one of my line has need of it?”

  In a very loose sense… “Yes.”

  “Very well.” Brennus inclined his head regally. “I will consider your offer. What will you give me in exchange for the use of my sword?”

  Well… damn. What did he have to offer a legendary immortal Celtic king?

  A metal detector?

  Money?

  “Uh…” Ben had a feeling none of those things were going to impress Brennus very much. He looked desperately at Tenzin, who was trying to tell him something with her eyes, but it wasn’t making any sense.

  He’d found the Sanguine Raptor. He had survived the ancient vampire who guarded it.

  Now how on earth was he going to keep it?

  Chapter Eight

  POOR BEN. HE LOOKED SO confused. Didn’t he realize Brennus had already told him what he wanted?

  Should she let him dangle for a while longer or just make the offer herself? It had clearly slipped Ben’s notice.

  She waited a few more beats. Just when Ben started to look truly desperate and Brennus started to look annoyed, she decided she’d waited long enough.

  Besides, the Frenchman was starting to knit back together. In a few minutes, he’d be able to talk.

  “A case of the wine,” Tenzin said. “Twelve bottles. Nearly the blood-weight of two humans. Think of it, Brennus. You can keep this wine with you as you rest. When you wake, you will be able to drink as you will and rise in control of your hunger.”

  It was exactly what the old vampire had been thinking. Tenzin knew, because it was one of the first things that occurred to her when she first consumed blood-wine.

  Brennus smiled and nodded at her. “Very well. I will give loan of my sword to this human if he vows to pass it into the safekeeping of my kin in exchange for this fine wine you have shared with me tonight.” He looked around. “This world is not to my liking. I believe I will retire again.”

  René finally rose to his feet, holding his throat as he spoke in a rasping voice. “Chief Brennus, father of my line, pay no attention to this human. I am your kin. I am René, son of Luc, son of Carwyn, son of Maelona. I also seek the Sanguine Raptor.”

  Ben said, “But he works for one outside your bloodline. He only wants the sword to get rich.”

  “Is this true?” Brennus asked.

  René glared at Ben. “No more than this one seeks the sword for his own glory. He is a hired thief, nothing more.”

  Brennus looked at Ben. “Were you given money to seek the Raven King’s blade?”

  Tenzin wanted to speak, but Ben’s expression was calm and confident. He stepped forward and held out the gold coin he’d first used to captivate Brennus when he’d been out of his wits.

  Something in Tenzin’s chest ached. Ben stood, bold as a crow, smiling in the face of an immortal just barely in control. Maybe it was naiveté. Maybe it was pure guts. But there he stood, holding a token out to the legendary king like a knight on a quest. He didn’t look away. Didn’t shy from Brennus’s power.

  “I was offered a token,” Ben said. “A gesture of good faith like the token I offered at the Raven King’s stone.”

  Brennus said, “For if there is nothing staked, then what do we risk?”

  “Exactly,” Ben said. “Brennus, I give you my word that I will put your sword in the hand of the one who shares your blood. Who wants it to protect and not to sell as treasure.” His hand held steady, the gold coin in his palm.

  Brennus paused and looked between Ben with his bright face and outstretched palm, and René, holding his neck with a wary expression and blood dripping between his fingers.

  He put his palm over Ben’s coin. “My faith is in you. I will have your word on this gold that when I rise again, the Sanguine Raptor will find its way back to me.”

  She saw the brief hesitation. Saw Brennus’s reaction to it. The old vampire understood in an instant what Ben thought but wouldn’t say. Would Ben still be alive when the Raven King finally woke?

  A slight smile touched Brennus’s lips. “Mortal, your fate is clear to all but you.”

  Ben said, “I give you my word. I will do everything in my power to return your sword to you. And I will leave it in hands I trust.”

  Brennus nodded. “Very well, human. We have an agreement between us.”

  René shouted, “What is this?”

  Brennus pinned him with a single look. René fell silent, but his eyes remained on Ben.

  Nothing good would come of this. Though they had saved his life, Ben had made an enemy and bested René at a game the Frenchman thought he’d walked into as a winner. Tenzin would have to keep an eye on René Dupont. No doubt he’d be keeping an eye on them.

  Brennus reached down and plunged his arm into the soil. The earth rippled and flexed beneath
his hand. Then, slowly, the ancient king pulled the Sanguine Raptor, the raven’s blade, from the old churchyard in Dunino Den. The blade was blackened iron, its single edge curved like the line of a horse’s back. The sharp tip ended less than an arm’s length from the hilt, which was a stylized raven with ruby eyes.

  Tenzin stared at it and wanted it.

  Damn Ben Vecchio and his insane idea about professional ethics. The sword Brennus held reminded Tenzin of the falcatas on the Iberian Peninsula.

  She didn’t have a falcata, and her sword wall was now incomplete.

  Brennus held the blade out to Ben, who took it by the hilt, showing the sword the respect it deserved. She’d trained him well.

  “Cool your gaze, sida.” Brennus’s eyes cut to Tenzin. “This blade is not for you.”

  “A pity,” Tenzin said, “for I would wield it well.”

  “No doubt you would.” He held up a finger to Ben. “A loan, human. That is all I will grant you.”

  Tenzin didn’t watch as Ben and Brennus exchanged polite words about the Sanguine Raptor. She didn’t listen to the stories Brennus told or the questions Ben asked.

  She watched René Dupont. And she waited.

  ✕

  BRENNUS the Celt, legendary chieftain, warrior of renown, father of one of the largest clans of earth vampires on the planet, sank into the ground with so little fanfare that Ben had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. The immortal sat on the ground, a crate of blood-wine beside him, and nodded at Ben before the ground opened up and swallowed him like a wave taking a swimmer into the deep. For a few moments, the earth shifted and shook. The ground pulled in, constricting the churned dirt until it lay smooth and even with the rest of the graveyard.

  Then everything fell silent.

  The standing stone where humans had laid offerings sat in the same position, though the earth around it was bare of grass. Ben walked over and placed his hand on the stone. His feet barely made an impression in the dirt. Brennus had disappeared as if he had never risen. If Ben didn’t have the raven sword in his hand, he probably would have thought he was dreaming.