Loyalty

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Loyalty Page 2

by Charles E Yallowitz


  “Just feel like we’re missing something.”

  “We are, but it isn’t the first time this has happened.”

  “Clyde has never pushed things this far before.”

  “So, what do you suggest we do?”

  “Gather those other vampires and get as close to the execution circle as we can.”

  “That would be smart if our makeshift army didn’t up and leave five minutes ago,” a deep voice declares from behind an oak. Drinking from a bag of blood, a seven-foot tall vampire with a metallic coat and two giant swords on his back lumbers into the open. “Sorry to tell you this, sis, but somebody made the call to retreat. I don’t know who it was, so I sent Luther and Robert to see if it was Xavier or Nadia. Still, it doesn’t feel right. If you ask me, I think Clyde used his powers to make sure nobody interferes. He tell you anything?”

  Mab licks her lips at the sight of her brother’s food, but keeps her hunger in check with a low growl. “Can you ever show up with good news, Titus? I’m surprised the Vengeance Hounds didn’t stick around since holy enemies are your specialty. In fact, I find it hard to believe they would retreat without good reason. Must be Clyde putting his plan into action, which is infuriating. Are either of you two angry that you’re in the dark here?”

  “I’m annoyed, but I trust him to be safe,” Decker admits with a shrug.

  “To be fair, neither of us spent a few decades being more than partners with him, so it hurts us less,” Titus points out with a toothy grin. He puts out his arm to catch the short woman by the head and leans away from a kick that puts a hole in a nearby tree. “This is why I disagree with you about her being made for speed more than strength, Decker. Hey, you know I’m only teasing like little brothers are supposed to. We’re all worried about him and it’s disconcerting to be left in the dark. Clyde sending the others away doesn’t help, especially since it’s obvious the three of us weren’t given the same magic message. Robert and Luther would be here too if I didn’t send them to investigate. He wants his most trusted friends to witness something. What did that seer talk about before he was eaten?”

  “The greatest gift awaits you in the bowels of Durag,” Mab replies.

  Remembering how Clyde has been repeating the phrase for the last month, the three vampires become quiet and face the city. Distracted by Mab’s constant growling, Titus hands her another bag of blood, which she greedily devours. She ignores the wide-eyed gazes when she tears the container open and licks the inside clean. Tossing the remains over her shoulder, the burglar continues running her tongue around her face in the hopes of getting as much of the delicious ichor as possible. It is not long before her companions begin developing their own nervous twitches and give up maintaining their calm façades. Decker repeatedly polishes his medal and turns around to make sure they are not being approached from the rear while Titus randomly clucks his tongue against his fangs. Within minutes, the trio have annoyed each other and are on the verge of snapping simply to clear the tension.

  A loud boom from the city causes the vampires to focus all of their attention on the execution circle. They can barely make out Clyde being walked down the street, their naked leader surrounded by priests and guards. He puts up no resistance, except to dodge the debris that the thick crowd is throwing at him. The master thief manages to avoid every blow without moving beyond the tight group of guards. By the time he reaches the edge of the cobblestone circle, the mortals have given up trying to hit him and settle for screaming obscenities. Clyde effortlessly slips from his chains and bows to the angry citizens, which causes the nervous guards to violently tackle him to the ground. People scream at the sight of him baring his fangs, but they calm down when he is restrained and his head is covered by a dull yellow sack. Wanting to get the execution started, the soldiers grab the vampire by all four limbs and unceremoniously hurl him into the center of the circle.

  Rising to his feet, Clyde frees himself again and slowly spins to take in the sight of the four priests. They stand in unison and finish their chanting, which prompts beams of sunlight to run from the clouds to their bodies. Looking as if they are living stars, the Duragians turn the energy into holy blasts that strike the vampire from each side. The stretching ends of the spells turn into claws that sink into their target’s flesh and slowly tear him apart. Instead of writhing in pain, Clyde laughs and dances to the fury of the surprised crowd. His joy abruptly ends when he vanishes completely for a second before coming back into view. Unlike before, he is fully clothed and completely healed as the spells stab into him again. The vampire drops an orange orb that has appeared in his hand, the glowing relic remaining at his feet. An echoing shriek of agony bursts from his mouth as his skin splits and coils of evaporating blood rise from the gaping wounds.

  “That idiot!” Mab shouts as she leaps forward. She is stopped by Titus catching the end of her cloak and Decker forcefully pinning her to the ground. “Let me go! Don’t you see what’s happening! Clyde had an illusion in the cell and was hiding in the city. He was using his own execution to distract everyone from the theft, but they must have put a teleportation trap on the relic. They must have known about his plan or taken the precaution anyway. Now, he’s exactly where they want him, which is in the middle of that holy nightmare. Let me up, dwarf, because we have to save him.”

  “And how do you plan on the three of us getting through that crowd much less defeating so many Duragians?” Decker asks as he struggles to hold onto the enraged woman. Having no other choice, he snaps Mab’s lower back and breaks her arms to prevent her from escaping. “I’m really sorry that I had to hurt you, but charging in will get you killed. Clyde wouldn’t want you to be so reckless and don’t try to say otherwise. Besides, even if we could get there, we wouldn’t make it in time. He’ll be dead in the next five minutes and there are too many blood sacks between us and the execution circle. If you don’t want to watch then we’ll understand and not think any less of you.”

  Rolling onto her back, Mab manages to heal enough of the spine injury to lurch up and slam her forehead into her friend’s nose. “Worry about yourself because I’m going to rip your eyes out for what you’re doing. Unlike you two, I refuse to stand by and let him die. He’s rescued all of us time and time again, so why should we fail when he needs us the most?”

  “Feels like the earth is shaking,” Titus whispers more to himself than his friends. The ground abruptly shifts to the side as if the hill is having a violent spasm. “What in all of Windemere was that? Is this part of the execution? Maybe Clyde is using his illusions to . . . What in all of Windemere is that? Tell me you two see this too.”

  Decker and Mab begrudgingly stop their argument to follow Titus’s gaze, which is locked on the horizon. Ripples of magic are running through the colorful clouds that are billowing across the sky like they are being pursued by a terrifying predator. Constant explosions shake the land and the wind carries the sound of distant screaming, but nobody can discern any of the words. Cracks of lightning rain down on the landscape, the purple streaks pulverizing whatever they hit. In response, blasts of lava erupt from the earth and punch holes in the approaching storm. People cower as the molten rock returns in a hardened state and crushes those who are not fast enough to get out of the way. Animals run and fly in every direction, the threat so enormous that none of the creatures can figure out where they would be safe. Throughout it all, the executioners continue pulling Clyde apart while the other priests work to put up a barrier that shimmers and sputters around the temple and village. Sensing danger, the three vampires drop to the ground an instant before the holy shield explodes and sends a razor-sharp circle of sunlight across the land. All those too slow to react are sliced in half, but they continue to scream as the twisted magic keeps them alive.

  Getting to their feet, the trio cautiously moves closer to the edge of the hill, which is now a sheer cliff devoid of plant life. They watch in horror as the landscape turns into a rocky expanse with a few patches of trees that grow
to twice their natural size. A quake knocks the vampires down and they cling to the earth as an ear-wrenching shriek fills the air. The Duragian temple quivers before the valley floor collapses and every building falls into the gaping pit. Fearing for her partner, Mab heals the rest of her injuries by using most of the blood in her body and scrambles ahead of her friends. She can barely hear Clyde screaming and laughing as the execution circle slides into the water-like dirt along with everyone around it. The surviving mortals struggle to escape, but they are unable to find any handholds that do not break away and send them tumbling into the darkness below. As the chasm starts to close, all of the surrounding hills sink until they are nothing more than small bumps in the earth. By the time the Great Cataclysm has ended, the three vampires are the only ones left and the greatest stronghold of their enemies has been consumed down to the smallest of structures. The only sign that anything once stood in the former valley is a faint glow coming out of a single crack in the dry ground. As the silent minutes pass, the light steadily grows dimmer until it is nothing more than a memory.

  1

  Sitting on a blue-cushioned chair, Xavier Tempest looks from one ornate mirror to another and patiently waits for the council to stop arguing. He has already spent the last hour examining every image and silently considering ways that he could improve their more archaic senses of style. A flicker of bloodlust rises in his veins whenever one of his fellow rulers angrily points a finger, their excitement causing them to knock over their side of the mirror. Feeling slightly unkempt, he runs a purple coral comb through his silver hair, which shimmers as if made from actual metal. The tall and slender Lord of Nyte pauses when he thinks he hears his name, but it turns out to be a heated debate between two of the younger nobles. Nobody bothers to join in the argument about stolen soldiers and feeding grounds, the personal issues having nothing to do with the rest of the council. Unable to leave the chair without ending the communication spell, Xavier settles his nerves by adjusting the ruffles at the end of his sleeves and picking pieces of lint off his embroidered vest. Snapping his fingers, he calls a hypnotized servant over to his side and leans the woman over to bite her neck. Being very careful not to spill any of his meal, the vampire is so focused on eating that he nearly jumps to his feet when his presence is finally acknowledged.

  “Are we boring you, Lord Tempest?” a portly man asks from a mirror to the right. Wiping drool from his face, the vampire is unable to hide his desire to steal the younger noble’s squirming meal. “There is a time and place for indulgences. We are here to discuss the constant attacks on our people. Ever since the Great Cataclysm, we have been under siege from priests, paladins, adventurers, and hunters. Just this month, the council has lost three of its members and been forced to find replacements from their immature kin. Our numbers are becoming more difficult to maintain without revealing our presence. I find it insulting that you can be so casual about our situation and stop our meeting for a snack. What are you going to do to help us, Lord of Nyte?”

  “I am sorry, but I did not realize I was involved in any of your petty conversations,” Xavier replies while cleaning his fangs. Gently putting the woman down in a way that she will empty into a large basin, he patiently waits for the council’s grumbling to stop. “It is amusing that you always ask me what I will do when I am the only one taking action, Lord Shallis. Unless you have recruited actual warriors to help fight our enemies instead of bodyguards to shield you and whatever playthings have caught your interest. None of you are working as hard as I am to keep our people alive. I am the one with the army, the agents, and the plans. For fifty years, I have sent my friends and servants across the globe to battle our enemies. Do you know how many of my children I’ve had to mourn?”

  A whimsical laugh draws his attention to a well-dressed elf who hides her face with a large fan. “You speak as if we have not suffered too. All of us have lost children, siblings, and even our makers to our enemies’ crusade, which your forces have been unable to stop. Remember that in the first year of this war, we sent our soldiers against the Duragians. We lost most of our forces in a battle that you were not a part of and that is the only reason you still have an army. I still question why you stayed out of that fight when your numbers could have made all the difference, Keeper of Nyte.”

  “Because I was busy fighting paladins at my doorstep,” the silver-haired nobleman calmly replies. With a sigh, he waves his hand to cast a spell that dissolves the woman’s fan and reveals her heavily scarred face. “You have always had my apologies, Lady Azurefawn, since I know you nearly died from your injuries. Still, as the one who guards our oldest city, I cannot leave my throne when it is under siege. That first year saw our people struck at all sides and mistakes were made, which we are still paying for. I have repeatedly asked that you give the order to all vampires to begin a turning campaign. Stop carefully picking and choosing when we need numbers more than special talents.”

  “That will bring attention to us!” a young vampire shouts before jumping up and accidentally removing herself from the meeting.

  “Yes, but it will also give us the numbers necessary to defend ourselves,” Xavier points out like he has done at every meeting. He barely listens to the explosion of arguments, all of which he has heard countless times before. “Enough! Everything you say boils down to cowardice. I no longer apologize for saying that about my so-called peers. Vampires are a dying breed because we are cautious while our enemies are aggressive. We have seen the rise of a holy army that is more lethal and cunning than any who have come before them. Do you think they will simply disappear or that we can outlive them? I am through with this meeting, but I hope all of you will consider what I am about to say. Our time is running out and I will fight for my people’s survival even if it means leaving the council behind. Goodnight, fellow nobles, and may your fangs remain sharp.”

  All of the mirrors fade away at once, the other nobles’ scowling faces and muttered curses having no effect on Xavier. He remains seated until he is sure they will not try to reconvene without him, a trick that nearly cost him his life forty years ago. With a yawn, he slides off his chair and kneels next to the dead woman whose blood has filled the basin. Picking up the large bowl with one hand, he takes a sip and casts a spell that incinerates the corpse. The smell of burning flesh floods his nose until he summons a gust of wind that opens all of his private office’s windows. Crimson moonlight pours in to illuminate his neat desk and the maps that completely cover the interior wall. Examining his extensive collection of battle plans, Xavier listens to his enchanted chair walk itself back to its usual place. Finishing his dinner, the nobleman places the empty dish on a cart, which he pushes towards the door. The portal swings open to startle a gnomish butler outside, the servant moving quick enough to catch the dolly before it goes down the stairs. Taking his seat, the tired ruler looks over the latest reports from his agents and tries to decide on their next move.

  Xavier’s ear twitches when he hears a faint tap, the noise coming from the window directly behind him. Glancing at a calendar without moving his head, he sighs and prepares himself for what is about to follow. The nobleman is impressed that he does not hear his guest enter, the original sound the only sign that she has arrived. His confidence is shaken when he tries to disbelieve the illusion that he assumes is covering the other vampire, his concentration creating a mild headache. Fearing that he has not eaten enough today to maintain his potent aura, Xavier wonders if he is in danger. The thought is erased when Mab steps out of the shadows to his left and puts her hands on his desk. Wearing a hydra-skin jacket that stops an inch from the floor, the burglar looks no different than she did fifty years ago when she stood before the noble and explained what happened at the Temple of Durag. Meeting her piercing gaze, Xavier cannot stop himself from smirking in response to the way she tries to intimidate him with a cold stare that never falters.

  “It appears it is time for our weekly discussion,” he says, conjuring a comfortable chair for
his guest. As usual, she refuses to sit and continues to lean against the desk, which she is accidentally pushing towards the far wall. “Please stop doing that because it took me centuries to get this place perfect. Can I be honest with you? We have done this dance for the last fifty years and I have humored you every time. There have even been days where I look forward to our heated debates. Now, our people are on the verge of extinction, so my patience for your selfishness has nearly run out.”

  “All I want is permission to dig Clyde out of the ground,” Mab hisses, her eyes briefly taking on a cat-like appearance. Reaching into her jacket, she drops a bag of holy symbols on the floor where they spark and sputter. “I’ve finished every mission you’ve given me without fail because you’re the only one who can give me what I want. Clyde is in your territory, which means I can’t go to the other nobles. More importantly, he is your friend. All I ask is that you give me a month and I can finish the excavation. The mortals already started the digging before the Duragians decided it was easier to create a new temple. You owe me this favor, Lord Tempest.”

  “Those of my status owe nothing to people like you,” Xavier snaps before he can stop himself. Unable to recover his composure, he stands and puts his face an inch away from Mab’s nose. “That area is too dangerous and you are talking about a fool’s mission. If Clyde was still alive then he would have dug himself out by now, which is something I stopped hoping for long ago. You, Titus, and Kenneth all gave me the same story, which was that they were tearing him apart as the Great Cataclysm struck. Even if their magic did not kill him, Clyde would have been trapped in the dirt and unable to get enough food to heal his injuries. At best, you will find his bones and maybe his clothing. Neither of those will help us win this war.”

 

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