“Indeed.” Daven’s expression was the very definition of grim, and he took another long, slow sip of his blood. His hands, Jonathan noted, were shaking, which was not a good sign. Few things should have been able to rattle a vampire of Daven’s age and experience. “There was a possibility of the relic being dangerous, so I instructed my servants to bring it to a remote location to ensure that any mishaps occurred far from anything important.” His expression turned pained. “I am not a fool. The relic appeared dormant, but appearances can be deceiving. Sure enough, my suspicions were proved correct. I received word that something had happened. The details – what few I could glean from the mind of a servant who managed to escape – were jumbled and barely comprehensible. However, I was able to determine that the relic activated. Almost all of my servants were killed, and the few who escaped were all driven mad. I can tell you more once we’ve settled on the exact terms of the contract.”
“That sounds awful.” Jonathan winced. However, it wasn’t entirely unexpected. The Blood Emperor’s relics were immensely powerful, and he had wisely made it difficult for anyone to use them without his permission. Since he was dead, that permission was not likely to be forthcoming. The relic going awry was only to be expected under those circumstances. He honestly didn’t want to know the details – they were likely to be gruesome – but he’d have to if they took the mission. Knowing was half the battle. “What was the relic?”
Daven opened the book carefully. “The Blood Emperor had many weapons, and all of them were legendary in their own right. The relic my servants obtained was the Dagger of the Crimson Dawn. It was said to leave wounds that would never heal and to imprison the souls of those it slew within its blade. I suspect that my servants inadvertently awakened the blade, perhaps releasing something from within it.” Daven’s gaze met Jonathan’s. “I asked for the group you are sponsoring because you have a former paladin and because you are one of the few who know anything about the dagger.” He scowled. “I have had my servants make copies of the pages relevant to the dagger, and I will give those to you. However, you once wrote a research paper on the dagger, collating information from many other sources.”
Jonathan discretely cast [Review Memory] on himself. The Word allowed him to peer into his own memories and bring them to the front of his mind, as though they had only just occurred. Like many vampires, he was fascinated with the Blood Emperor’s relics. The dagger had played a role in some of his most important victories. “I am familiar with the dagger although my knowledge of it is based on the writings of others. The Blood Emperor never truly explained how it worked to anyone, but I do have some ideas about how to activate and deactivate it.”
“Exactly, which is why I chose your group. Someone has to deactivate the dagger, and I would prefer not to go there myself.” Daven shuddered. “I will pay all of you handsomely to deal with this problem. Apart from ample quantities of money, you will also receive the gratitude of my House. Although I cannot promise any open action, there is certainly plenty of help and influence that my House and I can offer through more private channels. Moreover, the dagger, that wretched thing, is clearly cursed. If you can deactivate it, you’re welcome to keep it, provided you keep its origins secret. If you can destroy it, that is also acceptable. It’s already proven to be far more trouble than it’s worth. After what it’s done and the servants I’ve lost… no, I want nothing more to do with it. You know the legends. It will be nothing but trouble until it finds its way into the hands of one destined to wield it. Clearly, neither my servants nor I are so fortunate. You can even throw it into the sea if you wish. I simply insist that you keep my prior possession of it to yourself.” He snarled, and his eyes blazed red. “Some of those servants had been with me since I was but a boy! Their loss was most… galling.”
“Of course.”
Vampires could get possessive, and many turned their favourite servants, thereby ensuring centuries of additional service. Indeed, Jonathan hoped to make such an offer to Miles once his fortunes had been restored. It was entirely possible that some of Daven’s servants had originally been turned by his father, making them older but less powerful than Daven himself. The curse was yet another thing Jonathan would have to consider. The dagger had brought woe to every person who had ever wielded it after the Blood Emperor’s passing. Jonathan would be happy to have it – but only for a few days, so he could study it. There were plenty of people who would pay to possess it, heedless of the danger, or he could simply find a nice spot and bury it. The last thing he needed was to be cursed on top of all his other problems.
“We shall do our best,” Jonathan assured him.
“See that you do.” Daven handed him some parchment and some pages of paper. “Here is your copy of the contract, as well as copies of the pages relevant to the dagger. We can go over the finer points in more detail, but I cannot give you any longer than a fortnight to complete the mission. Any longer and some of my… rivals might discover my mistake.” His gaze burned into Jonathan. “To be clear, you are being paid as much for your discretion as for your other services.”
Jonathan inclined his head. “Not a word of this will reach your enemies.”
“It had better not.”
Jonathan knew better than to contradict Daven. For Noble Houses, appearances could be just as important as results. It was not enough for a Noble House to be strong. No. It had to appear strong as well. As a result, it wasn’t unusual for Houses to exhaust themselves over seemingly trivial or pointless matters, all to keep up the façade of a powerful and competent House. Oh well. Such was the fate of those who dabbled in the endless contest for power in the Blood Alliance.
“Now, let us go over the details.” Daven gestured at the book. “Of both the contract and the dagger.”
* * *
Travelling with Aria and the others was not nearly as nice as Jonathan had hoped it would be although he really shouldn’t have been surprised. Back in the good, old days when he’d had money in his pockets and a castle to go home to, he’d travelled in a special carriage that was designed to carry a coffin. It let him travel, even during daylight, in ease and comfort. It wasn’t without risk. If he were somehow exposed to the sun, he’d be in a world of trouble. He was a vampire noble, but he was only two centuries old. He’d have a minute or two at the most to get to shelter before he went up in flames, not that he’d ever bothered to test it. On the contrary, his estimates were based on a fairly enlightening but extremely graphic review of the statistics regarding sunlight-related deaths amongst vampires.
Now, however, he was not in his favourite coffin in a specially designed carriage. Instead, he was in the crate he’d salvaged – he wasn’t foolish enough to waste money on a new coffin when he still had so little to spare – in the back of an old, rickety wagon. He would have preferred to travel during the night since the wagon was in far from optimal condition. However, the others, except for Eric, were generally better off travelling during the day. The prevalence of bandits, some human and some vampire, also made it safer to travel during the day. On the upside, most vampire bandits were fledglings. Any vampire of real power was likely to eschew mere banditry for something more lucrative and prestigious.
It would have been okay if he’d been able to doze off, but the wagon travelled so bumpily that he hadn’t been able to get any rest or sleep at all. Instead, he’d been left staring at the top of the crate, wondering how long it would be until the sun set and he’d be able to get up and have a look around. He could have used [Scry] or some of his other Words or generic magic, but he needed to conserve his magic. It was a pity the crate was so cramped too. There was no way he could read a book while he was inside it. There were also other things in the wagon that jangled around and jostled the crate. The group could have caught their own food along the way, but they’d purchased provision, mostly long-lasting bread and other easy to consume food, to help speed them along. They were working to a time limit, so spending time each day finding food w
as something they hoped to avoid.
If Daven’s suspicions were correct, it would also be a good idea for them to conserve their energy until they reached the manor where the dagger now resided. The other vampire hadn’t been able to offer too many specifics, but some of the things he’d glimpsed in the minds of his servants had been truly worrying. Whatever had escaped from the dagger was like a plague, and the less they were exposed to it, the better. There was even a chance, albeit a slim one, that it had already spread beyond the manor, which would make things far more complicated for them.
“Are you okay in there?” Aria asked. “I’m sorry about the wagon. It’s, well, we’ve been meaning to get a better one, but we’ve had to spend our funds on other things.”
“I’ll be fine.” Jonathan sighed. They weren’t doing it on purpose, and they should be able to upgrade after this mission. “Just make sure nobody opens my crate during the day. I happen to enjoy living.”
“Technically, you’re not alive,” Aria replied before clearing her throat. “Sorry. That was Eileen. I thought I should read her sign for you since you can’t see it while you’re in there.”
“Thank you.” Jonathan chuckled. Despite being very different from zombies and other undead, vampires were not technically alive in the same way as humans and werewolves were. “Although there are scholars who might argue the point.” He shifted slightly. At least, he’d been able to get some blankets into his crate to soften it up. It still wasn’t comfortable, but it was better than it had been. “How long until we get there?”
“We’re about halfway there, so maybe another three or so days since we’ll be travelling with the wagon, and the roads and terrain in this area can get pretty tough once you leave the main road,” Aria grumbled. “People have been trying to get the local nobles to spend more on the quieter roads for centuries, but you know how it is…”
Jonathan did. Few nobles would spend money if it could potentially aid their rivals, and even fewer would spend it without some immediate benefit to themselves. The journey should give him time to explain the dagger to them in more detail. As for the manor they were going to, it was built in an isolated, dark, and generally troublesome part of the forest. It was precisely the kind of area he would have avoided if he had the choice. He’d read horror stories with less worrisome settings. Alas, his need for money currently outweighed his need for personal safety.
“We’ll make do, I suppose,” Jonathan said.
“You guys are all slowpokes.” Eric must have leapt off his horse and onto the wagon because there was a thumping sound. It was honestly a minor miracle that the werewolf could even ride a horse. Horses tended not to like werewolves at all. They smelled too much like actual wolves. “I could make it there in a day if I had to.”
“We’re not all werewolves,” Aria pointed out. “And Eileen could make it there in less than a day if she put her mind to it.”
“Oh?” Jonathan was curious to know more. “What would she transform into?”
“A wyvern or a giant eagle,” Aria replied. “Unfortunately, she can’t transform into anything big enough to carry all of us at the same time. Sure, she can transform into things much larger than a person, but there are still limits. Otherwise, she’d transform into a giant dragon, and we wouldn’t have to worry about fighting.”
“Interesting.” Jonathan was also surprised by Blue Scales. By all accounts, he was a good rider, but he was the first merman Jonathan had heard of who could ride a horse. Where on earth he’d learned was something he had to ask about later. “Why did you leave your pack and clan, Eric?” He might as well learn more about his teammates if he couldn’t sleep.
“Leave?” The werewolf laughed, and Jonathan could almost picture him scratching the back of his head. “Oh… that. No reason, really. Most werewolves like to stick to one place. We’re territorial. But some of us – like me – can’t stay in one place for too long. We’ve got wanderlust in our hearts. It’s nothing about the pack or the clan – I just wanted to see the world. I’ll probably settle down someday, maybe go back and raise some pups. I’ve got time. I’m a werewolf.”
“There are some vampires like that,” Jonathan said quietly. “The legendary vampire explorer Gelarius the Great never set foot in his homeland for more than a week at a time once he passed his first century.”
“Sounds like my kind of vampire.” Eric chuckled. “What about you, Miles?”
Jonathan relaxed at the sound of his servant’s voice. He hadn’t ordered Miles to come with them. It wouldn’t have been fair, given the danger. Nevertheless, his loyal servant had insisted on coming along, citing Jonathan’s need for assistance even – perhaps especially – in dire circumstances. “I saw enough of the world in my youth – the good and the bad. I’m content to serve Lord Bloodhaven now.”
“You’re a loyal fellow, aren’t you? I can respect that.” Eric made an amused sound. “Did you hear that, vampire? Take care of him. Loyalty like his isn’t easy to find. Believe me.”
“I know,” Jonathan said. “And what about you Blue Scales? You mentioned a few things, but I’d like to know more.”
Blue Scales’s voice was deep, almost inhumanly so at times. It was a reminder, as though his appearance wasn’t enough, that although he could mimic the speech of surface dwellers, he was not one of them. “As I said, I fought in many battles below the waves. I became a great warrior, feared and renowned. Then peace came.” He gave a low rumble. “Peace is good. I saw far too many of my fellows die needlessly in pointless battles, but I have spent my whole life fighting.” He made a sound that was equal parts mourning and wistful. “Where do all the warriors go when all the wars are done? Some can take up the ploughshare and be content. I tried. I truly did. I farmed coral for a time, then seaweed, and many other things. I was good at it, but my heart… my heart was empty.” His voice brightened. “So I looked for new battles to fight. I had always been told that there were many battles to fight on land. I decided to go see if such rumours were true. And as strange as I may look, a warrior is a warrior. If I can fight well enough, there will always be work for me up here.”
“People are practical that way,” Jonathan admitted. It would have been nice to see everyone’s expressions since he could glean so much more, but he liked living. If his estimate was right, it was almost noon. “Out of interest, Eileen, can you tell me more about those shadow imps of yours?”
“I’ll answer that for you,” Aria said. Since it’s not like you can read her signs at the moment. Keep in mind, though, that I’m reading off her signs.” There was a brief pause, and Jonathan heard a rustling sound. “She doesn’t know why she can summon shadow imps. They were the first things she ever summoned, and they’ve been around ever since. Like she mentioned earlier, they’re good at making signs, they’re extremely stealthy, and they’re much stronger than they look. They’re not evil or anything, but they are naturally mischievous, and they can be very vindictive if they think they’ve been wronged.”
Jonathan made a mental note to never make the shadow imps mad. Eileen hadn’t revealed a lot about them in her reply, but summoners rarely revealed too much about their summons, lest that knowledge be turned against them. He’d heard of them before, but this was the first time he’d encountered any. In terms of their temperament, they sounded like most imps. However, they also seemed smaller and stealthier than most varieties. He could easily imagine them getting up to all sorts of mischief on the battlefield with Eileen and the others providing a distraction. They might not be able to slaughter the enemy en masse, but their small size and stealth should make them perfect as saboteurs. Off the top of his head, Jonathan could think of them being ordered to sneak into an enemy camp to undo saddle straps, armour straps, and anything else tied up or fastened. That would mean chaos when an attack came. They could even sneak in and poison food and drink with no one else the wiser.
“They can travel through shadows, and they can store things in shadows too. They have lots of
things stored up, and they routinely take things from here and there. That’s where the signs and the other tools they use come from. Would you like to see one more closely?”
Jonathan shuddered. The added information made them sound even more dangerous. “Uh… sure.” He had hardly gotten the words out when something popped into existence beside him. He might have given a most unmanly shriek as the shadows coalesced into a small, vaguely humanoid form that was roughly a foot tall. Even with his vampiric vision, he couldn’t make out any solid details although he once again got a flash of jagged teeth and swirling pits of darkness where eyes should have been. This time, though, a feeling of amusement radiated off the little creature as it did a merry jig on his chest, waved, and then vanished back into the shadows. He had the strangest feeling that it found him funny, which he supposed was better than it thinking he was a threat. “Um… how charming.”
“They’re very handy to have around,” Aria admitted. “We’ve used them as scouts and sentries, and they’re perfect for stealing things and sabotage. Sure, they’re not the strongest things in a straight up fight, but Eileen has other summons for fights, and she’s no slouch in a fight either.”
“Don’t worry about shrieking like a little girl,” Eric said with a laugh as he rapped the top of the crate with one hand. “Most people do. In fact, Eileen likes to prank people by –” He stopped midsentence. When he spoke again, all of the levity had gone out of his voice. Instead, he all but growled his next words. “We’ve got company.”
“Of the bad kind?” Aria asked.
“Out here and without announcing yourselves? That’s the only kind it can be.” Eric patted the side of the crate. “Rest easy, vampire. We’ll handle this. Just sit tight and hold the lid shut.”
Attempted Vampirism Page 11