Everliving Kings (the Heroes of Darkness Saga) (6 page)

“So you did live a pious life! I was right about you from the start. My Lady, you do still have a Christian soul!”

Anya shook her head but smiled with him anyway. “Ah…no, not that kind of monk. This was back in Asia perhaps some two thousand years before your Jesus was born, but it was a peaceful time in my life.”

“But what happened my Lady?” the good friar insisted to know.

The Risen let her shoulders slump just a bit before answering. “Well a war band came by, some twenty or so men; they demanded tributes of food for them and the horses. We gave them what we could…they decided it was not enough. When we defended ourselves most of them died. I…was …prevented from following and killing the survivors, but they returned with a larger force. He…ah….he did not survive.” Anya left it at that as she was left to face memories she had not seen in quite a long time.

A quiet fell across the table until brother James felt the need to apologize. “I am sorry my L
ady.”

Anya looked deep into the friar’s eyes and cocked her head at a slight angle. “Don’t be, I mem
orized each one of those faces. When my pain and my bloodlust returned I found them and gave them to the beast…she… took her time.”

The table guests looked at one another in shock at the cold tone in her voice, and the Bishop could not help but to cross himself once more.

The Sheriff was the first to break the silence. “So just to be clear my lady, you are saying there is a one in four chance of surviving an attack by or drinking the blood of a Risen?”

Anya raised her eyebrows. “No, I said there is a one in one billion chance of surviving. All other outcomes mean death in one way or another for the ah…victim.”

Undaunted he pushed ahead. “And you can tell who will do what before you feed on them?”

Anya nodded in agreement. “Yes well it helps to know if your meal is about to leap back up and try to feed on you when you are done. Obviously I tend to avoid those folks if I can help it.”

The Sheriff laughed and shook his head saying. “But surely a new Risen would be no match for you.”

“I thank you for your vote of confidence, and I can understand why you may think so, but a newly
Risen Vampire is a very dangerous thing to deal with, even for one as old as I am. They are in such a pain maddened state that nothing can hold them off for long. You must understand when the hunger, or what we call the ‘beast’, grips the mind, you can’t reason with it, talk to it, distract it, confuse it or hurt it. The need for blood is the only thing newly Risen Vampires can think of. Until that bloodlust is fed and the hunger subsides, it is best to avoid them at all cost.

It is a haze of instinctive movements that guide
them; there is no rational thought behind any of it. They will attack anything they can feed on including the Risen who created them. More than one careless Risen has met their end at the hands of their own creation. This probably has a lot to do with why the planet has not been overrun by the plague-born by now; we don’t procreate for the fun of it.

Not to mention the fact that anyone who can pull themselves out of the nightmare of the madness, tends to be leery about putting anyone else through that…experience. It changes you in many ways…
”

“Ah, there you see brother!” the Sheriff said with a laugh to the wide-eyed Bisho
p, “I told you, you had nothing to fear! The lady Anya would hate to have to kill you twice! So can you tell us my lady how each of us would endure?”

Any
a raised a single eyebrow and thought about reminding the Sheriff, that her existence was not some rote party game, but decided to indulge him instead.

“All right my
Lord, first of all, you…would turn slowly.” She said sniffing the air in his direction. “Bishop, instant Risen, and a strong one at that, Friar Tuck…hmmm, slow change and Sir Robert….well, luckiest one at the table. Your suffering would be brief Sir Robert, you would not rise again.”

The Young Noble let his jaw drop as his face paled, “I hardly find that of any comfort my lady! If I understand you correctly that means I am the only one here suitable of being on the menu!”

At that the room roared with laughter.

6

             
A heavy early morning fog greeted the knights, blanketing the open glade before them and spilling between the trees of their camp. The overcast sunlit sky gave the mist a slight glow that added to the supernatural feel of area. That feel along with the expectations of the coming meeting, set the nerves of the horses and men alike on edge.

             
These battle hardened knights of the Templar order, who had proved their worth a dozen times over in the holy land under King Richard, now jumped at the snap of a twig or the rustle of a bush. It was not the odd play of light and shadow on the early morning dew, or the old stone circle nearby pulsing with an energy of its own, but the company they were expecting that had them so rattled.

             
The horses began to paw at the ground as they pondered breaking and running, from something they could feel approaching.

             
“All right lads, look sharp.” The commander grumbled as he approached the edge of the glade with his hand on his sword.

             
“It’s all right Captain, we are in no danger here.” Said the nobleman to the knight’s right.

             
The Knight frowned and did not move as he answered. “Easy for you to say my Lord Rathbone, but I can feel the eyes upon us as I have since we left Nottingham Castle. Friends approach, only enemies watch.” He said with an ominous tone as he scanned the surrounding woods for any movement.

             
Lord Rathbone beside him smiled at the commander’s point, and had to admit to himself at least that his view was that of a wise and experienced man of war.

“Here they come now Commander.” He said with a nod of his head in the direction of the field.

There on the opposite side of the glade from the Knights encampment, a group of figures emerged from the tree line, crossing the field with barely a sound.

Without another word to each other,
Lord Rathbone and the Templar Knight moved out into the open field to meet the new arrivals.

The group wore dark earth tones in almost all of their clothing and equipment and it was obvious their weapons and gear were well cared for and well worn.

Five men in all had emerged from the darkness of the forest, but the knights and their Lord knew more waited unseen just beyond the reach of the early morning sunlight.

“
Lord Rathbone, nice to meet you at last.” The smallest of them said, as they all reached the center of the glade.

The
Lord bowed his head to the one who had spoken, knowing that without a doubt he must be the Leader of this shape-shifter pack. Although he was far shorter than his men were, his soft movements gave away his agility and his bright red eyes gave away both his heritage and his name.

             
“And you must be William Sathlock, the one they call Scarlet. It is my great honor to meet you. I thank you for meeting me like this and for allowing my request; I know I am asking a great deal of you.”

             
Scarlet snorted back a laugh and let his red wolf eyes study their faces before responding, curious how this Elder and his human companions would react. Scarlet sniffed at the air to read the mood on the wind and scratched his chin. Like many of his ‘wolf-born’ shifter kinfolk he stood out in a crowd as being obviously different, even if the observer was not sure just how.

             
“Yep, I’m Scarlet.” He said at last. “And you are askin’ a hell of a lot of us, even with the pact invoked. Our packs don’t usually like to mix with one another, an’ I don’t believe any stupid Irish mutt has enough magick to help you.”

             
Lord Rathbone smiled at the honesty of the man-wolf and nodded his head in agreement. “Yes, well I am…skeptical myself but I must try. Will your pack be accompanying us north William Scarlet?”

Scarlet took a deep breath and once again took his time to study the faces in front of him before answering. “No.
Just me and my brother Much, the rest will stay here; we will go by way of far too many other tribal holdings for us to move in large numbers. A large group of shifters moving through without prior notice or warning would start a land war faster than you can spit.

Besides it w
ould take us far too long too piss on ever other tree from here to Edinburgh.” He grumbled and his men roared with laughter.

Lord
Rathbone smiled back at him before turning to the Knight to his right, “Very well, Commander, let us not waste another moment, the longer that demon is out of our sight the greater the danger she will be to the people of Nottinghamshire.” With the efficiency of the veteran warriors they were, the Knights and their new escorts were up and on the road in less than an hour. The wolf pack and the shifters with them picked around for a bit before they also drifted away, giving two unseen observers the chance to come down from the dark forest canopy and plan their next move.

“Julnar.” The dark eyed man said as he a
pproached the young girl’s position. “Return to the mistress and report what we have seen, I will follow them and try to find out who they are meeting.” He said in the song like notes of their own native language. His eyes shone with an exited fire as he spoke and he leaned towards her like he was a cat about to pounce. He wore the traditional dark loose clothing of the Assim Order with twin curved swords across his back and a tightly tied black turban on his head, with a portion hanging under his chin for use as a veil.

For a moment the girl thought about protes
ting that they should remain together for safety, but he was her elder in the guild and so technically he outranked her. “As you wish Tarik.” She said with a nod. She did not need to tell him to be careful, any more than he needed to assure her he would, so instead a glance, a smile and a nod, sent the assassins in different directions.

Julnar kept to the thick of the forest and fo
llowed as many streams as she could find to keep the shifter wolves off of her scent. She knew even this was no guarantee with the shifting ones, as they always seemed to know when someone or something was on their land uninvited. Still her mistress was counting on them to bring her the information of what her father was up to. It was her great honor to serve the Jinn named Anya and she would gladly give up her own life to protect her, but this mission required her safe return to report. Cresting a forest hill, the looming stone structure of Nottingham Castle, and its surrounding village, came into view, giving the girl a chance to catch her breath.

In that second of rest fate lent a hand with a nearly imperceptible shift of the wind, so slight she almost missed it.

The scent on the wind got her moving a split second before the huge wolf-creature sailed from the underbrush. As it attacked the flying swipe of the creature’s massive right paw, scraped by where the girl’s throat had been just seconds before.

Julnar let her body fall back flat, drawing a short scimitar as she fell and flashing it upward t
owards the monster as it passed by her. The shifter-beast rolled and slid to a stop before turning back to glare and growl at the girl.

Pushing off of the ground above her head Ju
lnar bounced back to her feet ready for the creature to attack once more.

“I am leaving your woods! You have no need or cause to attack again!” she shouted in English as she shifted her weight from side to side.

The wolf-being stood on its hind legs and stretched its back, looming high over its much smaller opponent. With a deep rumble of a growl and a voice to match, it answered the surprised girl.

“I can smell the death upon you little one! That alone gives me every need to destroy you!”

The creature hunched down as if to strike once more but before it moved the girl shouted at it yet again.

“And yet you serve the evil one against my mistress. This
Lord Rathbone your people will help plans on torturing and killing my mistress, his own daughter! Did you know that? Don’t you smell the death on him?”

The creature relaxed for a moment as it po
ndered her words. “Why should we care if one dead thing wishes to destroy another? So long as you all stay out of our forest we don’t care what you do to each other!”

With that the man-wolf swiped at her once more with its massive right paw. Julnar fell back to her left slapping at the paw with the flat of her blade as it went by.

The strike was followed immediately by another attack, this time from the left paw. Like first, the nimble girl slipped under the blade like talons with ease.

The large snout of the be
ast flashed out at her in fury, slamming its jaws shut just as the lissome fighter bounded back and swung her blade down across its face. This caused the being to leap back and howl in frustration.