Once and Future King

Legacy of Kain: Once and Future King

AU/continuation- fic of ‘Defiance’

The Beginning – Chapter 6

* * * * *


K A I N

“Look at this, Kain!” Vorador’s excited murmur made him glance up from his book to see what was so interesting. The green vampire had stopped in earlier in the evening, trailed by five curious fledglings, to let him know that everything was being tended to without hitch. After shooing the group out, Kain had been left in blissful silence for the rest of the night; opting to read a well-remembered farce of a novel as he sat vigil next to his recovering offspring rather than attempt to concentrate on anything prone to renew his temper. Raziel rested uneventfully despite the occasional visitor. Even Vorador’s energetic entrance did not seem to alarm the sleeper. Kain rose to see what it was the green vampire held aloft with delicate claws. It looked, and smelled, like a grizzly trophy.

He made a face. “If you’ve come to return some portion of my child’s anatomy that Faustus vivisected, I’ll thank you to dispose of it properly.”

“Don’t be crass, Kain.” The old vampire snorted. “This foul smelling bit of meat has nothing to do with your fledgling, as far as we know, although I’d sorely love to ask the boy about it. This bit of excrement, seemingly, was once attached to Faustus.”

“How is this?” Kain claimed the nondescript portion of flesh and studied it, trying to figure out what exactly it had once been.

“If I had to guess, I’d say the fight wasn’t entirely one-sided.” Vorador also peered down at the mysterious clod of meat. “It would explain the blood trail that Umah has reported back on. She followed it for more than two miles before it faded. They’re still tracking the scent trail from there.”

Wiping away some of the gummed blood, Kain hissed in amazement. The mauled little bit of flesh had an iris embedded in it. “I’ll be damned.”

“…Got the bastard’s eye.” A hoarse whisper from the vicinity of the bed grabbed their attention immediately. Raziel was awake, weakly trying to detangle himself from the array of blankets he was under.

Kain swept over to the bed, leaving the ugly prize in Vorador’s keeping. Assisting the fledgling as gently as he could, he got Raziel oriented vaguely upright and then checked him for signs of renewed injuries. Thankfully the vampire seemed no worse for his sudden return to wakefulness. Sore and angry, Raziel gingerly touched his stomach and winced.

“You’ll need a day yet, before Janos will let you up and about as usual.” Kain spoke softly, relieved beyond the ability to express. “The scar will likely fade before the end of the year, at worst it will be gone with your first evolution.”

“You wouldn’t wake.” Raziel looked at him dismay, voice growing steadier with each word. “I tried to rouse you, but you wouldn’t wake.”

“I know.” Kain decided to save explanations of the drug for later. As befuddled as his wounded offspring was, he didn’t want to complicate matters needlessly. Already pale, the fledgling still had an almost bloodless look about him as he recovered, his eyes had bruised looking shadows beneath them. Kain ran the back of a claw along the young vampire’s arm in a soothing gesture. “How is it that you came to be in my room of all places? The coincidence seems a trifle strained.”

“I think I must have heard the window break.” Raziel smiled wanly at his previous foolishness. “It woke me, and I thought I might as well go to the library… but I was curious as to where you were and so thought to go to your room... Then I saw Faustus, and knew there was ill afoot.”

“…Curiosity killed the cat.” Vorador completed the homily in a de sotto voice. Kain shot him a warning look.

Turning back to his favorite, he gave the fledgling’s shoulder an encouraging shake. “Did he say anything worthwhile?”

“He introduced himself.” Raziel made a disgusted face. “Talked a lot of nonsense about how he was wronged. Threatened to kill you. I grabbed for the Reaver and…” The vampire closed his eyes, fighting the memory. When he opened them again, his look was haunted. “I didn’t know it was alive! You told us never to touch it, but I didn’t understand why! Even Faustus was terrified. He fled as soon as it screamed…”

Twisting his hands through his hair as if still able to hear the sword, Raziel shuddered. “I felt so cold. So very cold. And the sound it made… horrible! Like the death knell of some deranged demon… How is it you can wield such a power? I cannot fathom it. I thought I might go mad.”

“Normally the sword isn’t quite so… loud, to me. It despises all others however and will not bear their touch without a struggle.” Kain stroked the vampire’s messy hair, trying to soothe away the memory. It seemed best to distract the fledgling before he became too curious about the blade. While there seemed to be no lasting harm to either of the two Raziels, he didn’t want to ever consider another chance-meeting of the two. “How is it you came by Faustus’ eye?”

“He was trying to snap my neck.” Raziel hissed weakly. “I thought, if I was going to die, at least I could return him some portion of the same humiliation.” Holding up his hand, he inspected his fledgling claws. “Would that I had weapons like yours, the traitor would be dead even now.”

“Someday you will.” Kain stood and slowly pressed the vampire back down onto the mattress. “I owe you a debt for your service to me, child. Do not suppose I will forget it. Now, rest. I’ll return in a moment.”

Vorador gave him an eloquent look and followed him into the corridor, hiding his toothy grin until after the door was closed. “Tore the bloody thing right out of the bastard’s head? I take back everything slighting I ever said towards your eldest, Kain. He may act the docile child, but there’s a devil in him! In a decade’s time I would not want to get on his bad side for the world.”

It was no use trying to contain his pride to a mere smirk. Kain shook his head in quiet disbelief and pleasure. Vorador was right. Raziel’s trophy was remarkable when taking his age and inexperience into account. To be fair, Faustus was a damned idiot. But even so, he would be stinging far longer than the fledgling in the aftermath of the fight. Kain had seen how long a vampire’s eyes took to regenerate before, and it was no risk to assume his former lieutenant would be wearing a patch for years to come. A failure and a cripple, the fool would not soon forget it.

He almost wished he could be there to see it. Sebastian’s expression would be delicious, he had no doubt. Would he be furious? Or simply resigned as he listened to his brother tell the sordid story of how he not only failed to kill Kain, but was defeated utterly by a mere ankle-biter? How satisfying it would be to watch the arrogant back-stabber whimpering and weeping blood. Maybe Sebastian would do them all a favor and kill Faustus in a fit of pique.

“Were his injuries less, I would order a toast in Raziel’s honor,” Vorador mused. “Ah well, it can wait until later. Shall I tell his siblings of his triumph, or would you like to do the honors?”

“I don’t think an official announcement will be necessary. No doubt the gossip chain has already circulated the first half of the tale. You might as well spread the revised version and get a jump on the speculation.”

The green vampire continued to stare in amazement at the lump of membrane he had found. “Remarkable, Kain. Simply remarkable.” At length he produced a handkerchief, wrapping up the foul bit of flesh and tucking it within his doublet, no doubt to act as aid to his later storytelling. Given how little Vorador cared for the fleet-footed rogue, Kain half wondered if he would keep the relic permanently by means of some enchanted locket or the like. The old vampire had far worse trophies in his possession. Vorador patted the hidden pocket of his ornate coat paternally as he seemed to have the exact same thought.

“I’ll have one of my women bring up some food for the boy. And a book, or he’s liable to be bored enough to want to get up and go roving again.” Bowing slightly he turned to go, taking his air of jovial merriment at Faustus’ suffering with him.

Kain shook his head in amusement at his old friend’s antics. Undoubtedly Janos would be a wet-blanket about the whole affair, wishing to restore the wayward sheep unto the flock. As far as he cared, Umah could suck the marrow from the fool’s bones and bring back his severed head to be reunited with his lost eye. It’d make a pretty enough decoration for the front gates. Sadly he had little expectation of even Umah being able to apprehend the traitor without difficulty. Life seldom granted him such convenient turns of fate.

“Have your wives add a goblet for me as well.” Kain called after the retreating noble’s back, trusting Vorador’s oversized ears to catch the request. The green vampire waved a hand in acknowledgment as he made his exit.

*****

Kain didn’t recognize the woman who brought the food up. Hardly surprising the way Vorador and his wives had been widening their little clan by the dozen nearly every week. The girl looked little more than a fledgling herself, and wasn’t above peering curiously over at the bed where his lieutenant napped. He shooed her out before she could fumble anything or otherwise make a stir, loading her down with soiled rags as she left. Taking a long draw off the first chalice did wonders in soothing the last of his upset. Kain swirled the remaining blood in the cup and looked speculatively over at his offspring.

Compared to the afternoon, Raziel already looked much recovered from his ordeal. But a stronger drink might go a long ways towards ensuring the fledgling suffered no ill effects in the long term. Setting the cup down on the sideboard, Kain dragged a claw down the center of his hand, forcing his own blood to flow and mix with the supply already within the goblet. The wound closed as soon as he let go, leaving no evidence of where it had been. Inspecting the cup a second time, he swirled it a little, mixing the contents together into an innocent looking portion.

Undoubtedly the fledgling would taste the added potency. But tired as he was, the lieutenant probably wouldn’t question it. More importantly, he wouldn’t remember to remark upon it, should the others ask. Giving Raziel an edge was all well and good. He didn’t expect it to go to the fledgling’s head. Giving the rest of his brood the impression that they could score ‘seconds’ off of him was simply out of the question; he’d never hear the end of the nagging.

“Wake up.” Kain nudged his favorite.

The dark haired vampire responded to the command immediately, blinking as if surprised at his own sudden transition from asleep to alert. “Lord?”

“There is drink, if you feel able.”

“You do not need to nurse me, Scion.” Raziel winced as he sat up. “I know your time is valuable.”

“So are you.” Kain sighed, feeling old. It took a moment for his favorite to coordinate himself enough to accept the offered goblet. As eager as he was to be self-sufficient, his hands shook visibly as he latched onto the vessel. Kain kept a steadying hold on it until he was sure it wouldn’t tip. “Drink, vampire. Drink and grow strong.”

Carefully wrapping both hands around the cup, the fledgling did as he was bid. Raziel frowned at the first sip, but drank the rest readily enough.

“There was medicine in it?” He stared down into the empty goblet. “It did not taste like usual.”

“Yes. There was medicine, of a sort. What did it taste like?” Kain couldn’t help being mildly curious. Whatever effect his blood might have on others, he himself was generally immune to it.

Raziel tilted his head, considering the question. “It felt… warm. Almost burning. I feel it still.” Rubbing his throat, the vampire tried to puzzle it out. “Not a bad feeling.”

“Try to pay it no mind. It will pass soon enough.” Kain claimed the empty goblet and polished off the other before setting both by the door. Turning back he found his lieutenant looking around the room alertly before the man’s eyes fastened on the small stack of literature Vorador had supplied.

“My book!” Raziel pulled the top most tome off the stack and opened it, pleased.

“What does he have you reading now? Still Meridian?” He tilted the cover to look even as the fledgling flipped through it.

“A biography of the Time Guardian Moebius.” Raziel made a face. “Not terribly good. Almost certainly penned, or at least approved of, by the man himself. If even half of his heroic feats written here are unembellished, I’d be shocked out of all reason.”

Kain was quietly appalled. “Vorador has set you to learning about Moebius through his own words?”

“He said it was never too soon to learn the nature of our enemies.” The dark haired vampire replied, either unconcerned or unawares of his sire’s displeasure. “From what I’ve seen so far, this Moebius was quite the self-aggrandizer. Did you know that even though he spoke publicly before the first crusade about attempting to find a peace between peoples, he was funneling hundreds of thousands of gold marks into the creation of his own private militant-holy order? That the Saraphan, whom he claimed were a joint effort by all the Circle, were probably mostly his idea all along? He brags about it here! Lying bastard.”

“Yes, I have heard that before.” Kain sat down, feeling rather stunned. It was hard at times, to come to terms with the idea of speaking about Moebius in the past tense. Even after hundreds of years, he still expected the slippery time streamer to pop up unexpectedly.

All but one of the former guardian’s nefarious machines were destroyed. He’d made sure of that. The last one, he had thought about a long time before leaving it in place. As a precaution however, he had barred and chained the door to the chamber before any vampire had moved into the keep. A small mountain of junk disguised the entrance to Moebius’ private sanctum, and the entire level of the citadel was so flood prone anyway, that it was rare that a vampire bothered with it at all. In theory, the chamber would rest neglected and forgotten for the next several hundred years without mishap. It would have been a lie however, to say that he slept entirely easy some nights, knowing it was still there.

Kain wanted with all his heart to reduce it to rubble, but it was still needed. In order for the past to be true, there was one final transit through time that had to be undertaken. The last time streaming chamber of Nosgoth still had a job to do. He shook his head at the irony of it all. He had flipped his coin, and had seen it land. To change his mind now would upset the whole of the carefully ordered pattern he had set into place on that terrible day when the world ended. He shook his head, not wanting to brood about events so far yet in the future. Raziel was alive in the here-and-now, he sighed. Might as well enjoy the boy’s company while he could. Kain reached out and took the book from his fledgling, replacing it with the novel he had been reading earlier.

“If you’re feeling energetic enough to read through Moebius’ doggerel, you can read this instead.” He moved over to the window, feeling depression settle in his chest. Not even the radiant twinkle of the Pillars over the edge of the mountain, could quite give him hope. “Read it aloud, child. If you want to be of use.”

Raziel flipped the small book over in his hands, admiring the bindings and leatherwork. “A comedy? I didn’t know you cared for such things.”

“Even I can use a laugh, now and again, Raziel.” Kain smirked, leaning against the glass. “Read for me?”

Shrugging at the unlikely command, the vampire opened to the first page, his voice naturally falling into the rhyming cant of the old verse as he began to recite. Knowing the story as well as anyone could, Kain readily ignored the actual events of the chapter, enjoying instead the smooth sound of Raziel’s words.

*****

R A Z I E L

It was a genuine relief to learn that there was finally something more gossip worthy happening within the walls of the manor than his own months-old folly. Turel snorted at his audible sigh of pleasure as he sat sprawled in the chair across from him. His brother was still dressed for sparing practice, sturdy leathers making him look the part of a seasoned soldier despite their shared youth. Raziel stretched his arms over his head, enjoying the opportunity to relax for a few minutes and not be harassed by any number of well wishing busybodies among Vorador’s household.

“Don’t know what you’re so happy about.” The tall man shrugged. “It sounds like a heap of fuss and bother if you ask me. I don’t see why we should need move at all. The swamp has hunting enough for all of us. And it’ll be a full week’s journey by night to reach the citadel if we’re obliged to keep pace with women and weaklings.”

Raziel raised an eyebrow at his brother’s candor, knowing full well he was probably still counted amongst that less-than-elite group thanks to his injury. Well enough that he could return to lessons, and even resume fencing to a degree, he’d been flatly forbidden from anything too rough for the remainder of the month out of consideration of his knitting muscles. Janos’ strictures struck him as particularly paranoid. He _felt_ fine. Only the occasional sensation of stiffness lingered to remind him of his stupidity.

“Maybe our sire feels that we are ready for a more… worldly approach to living.” He pointed out idly, rather than throwing one of the couch cushions at his nearest sibling in revenge for the slight. “Vorador lives a retired lifestyle here. We can hardly adapt ourselves to the nature of the coming conflict if we train in isolation from the army already gathered. I find I am quite curious to see what lies beyond the trees. I’ve heard there are several human settlements near the fortress, for example.”

“I hate when you talk like that.” Turel folded his arms across his chest with a sigh of annoyance.

“Like what?” Raziel frowned.

His brother reached out a booted foot and kicked him lightly. “Like a god damned politician. Knock it off, it’s unnerving how good you are at it.”

“My apologies, Turel.” He grinned, “I shall speak plainly then. I find Vorador’s manor is comfortable, but incredibly boring – Faustus’ attempted murder aside. Why should we not have an adventure? I’m living proof that even infants like us can survive a beating with no real harm done. So why worry about what lies in store for us?”

“Point.” His brother pushed his hair back from his face and sighed again in annoyance. “We’re going to have to play nursemaids to the others you realize, Kain will undoubtedly be too busy with his own business to see to us personally. What will you wager me that Zephon attempts to tip Melchiah into the first river we cross?”

“If he so much as tries it I’ll dangle his feet in until they melt clean off.” Raziel agreed grimly. “His sense of humor is not always as funny as he thinks.”

“Is it ever?” Turel snorted. Turning to look out into the night, he kept a weather-eye on their younger siblings still jabbing at one another down in the courtyard.

Torchlight revealed that it was three on one, with Dumah playing at straw-man for the others to hack at. The instructor who was supposed to mid them at their efforts was off to one side, half in shadow as he spoke privately with one of Vorador’s pretty wives. Not even vampires it seemed were immune to the urges that came along in the springtime. The man had no eyes for anything but his companion as they laughed over some private joke.

Luckily, the large vampire was more than up to the task of fencing solo against the mob, deflecting his siblings while taunting them to do better. Raziel moved to the window to watch as well, just in time to see a rare moment of cooperation between Rahab and his younger siblings as two feinted and the other lunged so as to trick Dumah into leaving an opening. His resulting shout of annoyance made them smile.

“Suppose we should do a bit of nursemaid-ing now.” Turel suggested philosophically. “The instructor looks as though he’s got other things on his mind.”

Raziel nodded in agreement, holding the door for his sibling. “That’s one thing to look forward to, at any rate.” He shrugged. “Once we’re joined with the army, there’ll be no shortage of people we can foist Dumah off on?”

“Now there is a happy thought.” His brother laughed shortly.

***** *

The rumored horses never materialized, but two weeks found them all on the road regardless. Wrapped in stiff all-weather cloaks and high boots to protect against mud and creek-beds, a group of thirty vampires made its way through the swamps and across country to the highway. Raziel couldn’t help but stare at the scenery; so different from the looming shadows he had lived within for the first year of his life. Despite the safety and comforts of Vorador’s mansion, part of him was deeply glad to leave the misty dank landscape behind.

The voice in the darkness had never hailed him a second time. Still he could not quite shake the memory of it. Whether it had been dream, or reality, it bothered him to think of it. Between the haunting nature of the swamp, and the proven vulnerability of the manor itself, he was ready for a change.

Pulling his cloak tighter about his shoulders he breathed in the fresh mountain air as they crossed between the rolling foothills to the west and down into a wide valley dotted with farmlands and townships. In the distance, a white gleam stood straight and clean as a line between heaven and earth, catching the moonlight with rigid beauty. Even Dumah, the least romantic by far of them, was compelled to glance towards the Pillars of Nosgoth. Their very existence was improbably beautiful.

The road would fork eventually, Raziel knew from studying the maps. One could get to the stronghold either overland to their destination, or by following the highway past the very foot of the magic artifact from ancient times. A _vampire_ artifact, he reminded himself, feeling proud of his race’s former accomplishments. Sadly the highway would also take them through a series of towns not yet entirely friendly for vampires. It was deemed far too dangerous for fledglings such as them. With such a large group on the move, discretion was the better option he resigned himself.

There were enough entertainments to be had simply in the hike, and the camping, without having to see all of Nosgoth all at once. Watching his hungrier brothers accepting their ration of blood for the night with sighs of their own, he grinned into his cup. The false light of pre-dawn let him read Turel’s exasperation at their paltry measure perfectly. To be fair, there was more of Turel to feed. Dumah grumbled far less discretely, downing his dinner in two gulps before shaking the empty cup over his mouth in a vain attempt to get the last scattering of drops.

“I can _smell_ them out there.” He rubbed his jaw in annoyance as he cast the empty vessel aside. “Surely one or two wouldn’t be missed. Are we not lords of all dominion? Why should we not hunt when we hunger! This is pathetic…”

“Oh for god’s sake… Shut up, Dumah.” Rahab didn’t bother to mince words for his thickheaded brother. Turel merely reached sideways to cuff the man into silence. Three days of the same complaint dusk and dawn, had allowed all of them plenty of time to reach their own conclusions as to why they moved in secret and not as an ostentatious war party.

“Janos says that self-restraint is vital to-”

“Nobody cares what Janos says!” Dumah snarled over Melchiah’s observation, rising to his feet he snatched his youngest brother’s cup up, only to snarl again when he realized it too was empty. Raziel downed the last of his before the larger fledgling could get any clever ideas about claiming it. Zephon was only a step behind, gulping his just as his cup was stolen. The pair hissed at eachother in annoyance before Dumah contented himself with pacing instead. Even he knew that starting a brawl with one would undoubtedly mean brawling with all. And the other vampires in the camp could hardly let them raise such an uproar without interfering as well.

“I’m _hungry_.” Turning to Raziel he raised his hands in vague supplication. “Those cold-bitches Vorador sent to escort us like _you_, brother. You go ask them for more food…”

“Go to sleep, brother.” He advised quellingly. “You’re acting like an infant who squalls for want of more milk. We are a large group, and we have days yet before we get to the Sanctuary. If there was more to give, they would give it.”

“Boot licker.” Dumah sneered in reply, but did as he was told. Well used to his insults, Raziel simply shook his head in amusement. The others watched the surly fledgling retreat to one of the two tents provided to them with expressions ranging from annoyance to boredom.

Turel rubbed his head and looked towards the east to gage the sun. The gesture had become instinctive for all of them, even after only days spent in the outside world. A vampire marked time by the hue of the sky when in the wilds. Better to err on the side of caution and retire to camp early, then be caught out come daybreak. Their capes were dense enough that they had the luxury of time if they were caught, but the risk became astronomically higher. An older vampire could expose a sliver of skin by mistake and receive a nasty burn. A young one might simply combust all together.

The sky was noticeably brighter. The first horizontal shafts of daylight through the clouds added traces of color to the grey blue sky. The upper portion of the Pillars seemed to glow with white fire. Raziel wondered at how beautiful they would be in full daylight. Sadly to witness the splendor, he’d be obliged to don a ridiculous number of protective garments or risk certain oblivion. Someday, he promised himself, perhaps after an evolution or two. He would find some shady grotto near the edifice and see for himself what the sunlit world had to show him.

“Well, I’m done.” Ever the most practical of them, Turel stood and dusted off his pants. Offering a half smile towards Raziel, he jerked his chin towards the tents. “Given the surly-bear’s mood towards you at the moment, I take it I’ll be with him today?” Glancing around at the others he pointed to Melchiah. “You too, schoolboy. Come on.” Steering the smaller fledgling by a firm grip on his collar, he retreated to the tent Dumah had chosen for the day.

“Guess that means we’re all to share the other.” Zephon smiled with mocking sweetness at Rahab. “I could not imagine a more lovely time than to cuddle close with you until dusk, dear brother.”

The vampire didn’t even bother to look up from his book. Striking blindly but with uncanny accuracy, he flicked his forefinger against his younger sibling’s ear with a painful sounding snap. “Knock it off, Zephon.”

“Be nice, Rahab.” Raziel scolded gently. “He’s just being… Zephon. He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“At least you two don’t snore. I’ll share with you over being sandwiched in with that pair of oxen any day.” The youngest of them agreed in a far less oily tone. He even helped collect the cups as Raziel stood to take care of the necessary chore. Rahab closed his book with a sigh and did his part to tidy up their corner of the camp before making good his retreat.

Raziel was not surprised in the least to find that the pair of siblings were positioned on precisely opposite sides of the tent when he finally climbed in. Those scouts that were trained for daytime survival had donned their final layers of leather and cloth to weather the uncomfortable hours between dawn and dusk. The rest of the camp was still and silent as the majority of its occupants gave over to sleep. He took the place obviously left for him, wrapping his blanket around his shoulders and settling in between the other two with a sigh for their stubborn animosity.

Rahab and Zephon were as much an oil-and-water pairing as Rahab and Dumah were. The ‘middle child’ of their company lacking both the physical prowess necessary to ingratiate himself with the one, and the cynical merriment of the other. It wasn’t that Rahab was dull or weak, Raziel supposed, he just seemed to prefer his own company to other peoples. Perhaps it was the general challenge of gaining his bookish-brother’s attention that made him want to try at all. Maybe it was just that his brother reminded him a little of Kain in that sense. “Sleep well, Rahab.” He offered. Looking to his other side where Zephon had cocooned himself for the day he snorted in amusement. “Sleep well, Zephon.”

“And you, brother.” Rahab proved he was not yet asleep with his soft answer, shifting a little to find a more comfortable position against the ground.

“Good sleep, mum and dad.” Their other brother joked beneath his blanket in a faked village-idiot voice. “I’ll leave it to the pair of you to decide which is which…”

Raziel covered his face with his hand to keep from laughing at Rahab’s exasperated sigh of annoyance.

“I’ll kill him.” The fledgling to his left muttered under his breath. “Mark me, brother, one of these days, I’m strangling the little leach in his sleep.”

“Not tonight.” He advised, composing himself to at least pretend to rest. Between the constant walking, and the clean air, he’d had far less trouble with staying asleep during daylight than usual. It was for the best, as the tent was a rather compressed space to be obliged to sit in for hours if he was struck with a bout of wakefulness. He could always borrow Rahab’s book to while away the time, he supposed. The soft rhythm of one brother’s breathing was soon mirrored by the other. Letting the pair lull him as well, he closed his eyes and let his consciousness drift to the sound of morning birdsong.

*****

Not only was their new home in a far more agreeable landscape. But even better to Raziel’s mind, was that it was deemed a far safer territory. Hundreds of vampire soldiers gathered in a single fortress meant that patrols and borders could be maintained at a distance of several miles, leaving the woods and canyons surrounding the wide lake open to even a young vampire’s exploration. His brothers had quickly learned - or was it re-learned? - the art of horseman-ship with those steady beasts allotted to the general use in the stables. Within weeks they had begun to explore the shore lines of the lake for as far as could be safely navigated, as well as the winding roads and paths through the valley around their new home. Within the first year, the territory had become as familiar as the halls and rooms of the fortress itself. No one looked unnerved when one or more of them opted to set out on their own for an evening anymore.

As their skills increased their outings were sometimes formalized into actual hunts for boars and even men. Mastering the ability to navigate in the woodlands in all seasons, they still managed to have a bit of entertainment despite the endless lessons and preparations they were obliged to endure. Especially during those months when Kain was away, there was always the opportunity for wandering with no set agenda. Raziel secretly preferred it that way. Being able to roam as he wished in the trees was a rare bit of freedom from routine. He made no pretense about his desire to slip out beyond the old fortress’ walls whether alone or with others whenever the chance arose.

The strong moonlight of late summer allowed his mount to see where it was going at night without undue nervousness. Raziel nudged the animal’s ribs with his boot every few minutes to keep it moving at its lazy pace, but otherwise didn’t hurry it. Turel and several of Vorador’s women were out and about as well, but they’d drifted apart once they’d hit the road. His brother was inclined to more active pursuits, interested in practicing his archery on the night-prowling beasts of the valley along with the company of fearsome amazons.

Raziel left his sibling to it, knowing that it was not only boar that his brother had his eye on. The lissome blonde hunt-master had a certain feral charisma to her that even he’d noticed over the past several days. Not enough to tempt him into making a pass at her, but still, he could see her appeal. Leaving Turel some privacy in which to clumsily court the vampiress, he chose instead to guide his horse towards the meadows on the other side of the lake.

There, farmland butted up against the woods. Human villages surrounded by their sturdy stockades of thick timber managed to make a reasonable living despite their proximity to the vampire lands. The elder vampires’ general edict against unnecessary killing had held firm even when the trio of ancients were preoccupied elsewhere. The humans lived mostly unmolested, and even profited by their relations with the fortress, although he couldn’t blame them for being rather nervous about their neighbors after dark. By day they drove cartloads of wheat, textiles, ores and other sale worthy goods to the vampire sanctuary for exchange for the luxury of silver coins from the southlands, which the vampires had in abundance. By night, the majority of the humans hid behind their stockades, confident that unless provoked, that their trading partners would not eat them and thus lose out on the convenience of having their necessities delivered to their door.

Woe however to anyone caught in the woods after sunset however, especially if the weather was as fine as it was tonight. Even a friend might be mistaken for food in the heat of the moment. The local villages had developed their own means of punishment for lawbreakers over the years. Anyone they didn’t like, they simply had to push outside of the stockade. Eventually the problem would take care of itself one way or another. Bandits didn’t tend to last very long in the valley. The smart ones fled south or west to one of the human cities.

Raziel sniffed the air, catching a distant whiff of humans, and horses, in the distance ahead. Curious enough about the smell that he felt inclined to investigate, he clucked at his mount to goad it to be more active. Not equipped for heavy skirmishing, he still had both knife and sword on him. Unless it was a large group of mischief-makers, the advantage would be his in whatever encounter lay ahead. At worst he could call for Turel, he supposed. A chance for a real hunt with armed quarry would undoubtedly entertain his sibling, and give him ample opportunity to impress the lady he admired with his prowess.

With the long shadows it became safer to just lead his horse rather than try to ride it. He picked his way along the narrow path through the trees, mindful of any sharp rocks or sudden pitfalls that might cause the animal to stumble or injure itself. Eventually his dogleg led him back to a larger, more manageable strip of road. The hard-packed dirt showed layers of wagon-ruts in it, hinting at frequent traffic.

Raziel guessed that it was the eastern track back to the fortress, which gave him his bearings as to the nearest villages. The scent of humans was hanging vaguely in the air, leading him to believe that they’d already come and gone, whoever they were. Judging by the heavier scent of horse-sweat he supposed they’d left in a hurry. Not exactly an unusual phenomenon for so late at night. Listening carefully, he sought any lingering souls he might question, but instead of nervous breathing or other sounds of an ambush, he frowned at the out of place sound of a woman’s muffled weeping.

“Hello?” He asked foolishly, seeking to narrow down where the human was hiding. Tying his mount to a bush, he let it forage amongst the tufts of grass on the side of the road while he stepped through the brambles to see what he could find on the other side. Over a hummock and around a monster of an old tree stump, he paused to listen again. “Is someone there? Do not be frightened.”

Predictably, rather than showing herself, the woman suddenly gasped and fell silent. Raziel sighed in annoyance. If only he was older, he supposed he might find her by the sound of her heartbeat. Still. The human could only hold her breath for so long. With her next exhale he had her pinpointed in the shadowy niche beneath the dead tree’s roots. The space was impossibly small, he decided as he crouched down infront of it to get a better look. A guilty shuffle at the back of the burrow revealed a tattered skirt, and a pair of bare feet.

Raziel sat on his heels and tried his best to look non-threatening. The human couldn’t be more than a girl to fit in such a space. “Come along now. I won’t hurt you. What on earth are you doing in there the first place. It’s not safe to be out on such a night. Have you no home to go to?”

“You’re a vampire.” The girl squeaked in quiet horror. “Please don’t eat me. I won’t taste good at all. I’ve been blessed in the river just this past week!”

Smiling at humanity’s obsession with their rituals and superstitions, he shook his head. “That just means you’ll be cleaner tasting, little one. You’d be better off rubbing yourself in onions if you were trying to discourage one of us from finding you. Although if hungry enough, that wouldn’t really help either.”

Hearing her panicked whimper he shook his head at his foolishness for not helping with her fears. “You’re from one of the villages by the lake, yes?”

“Y-yes.” She peered out at him with a look of surprise. “You know of us? I thought I was miles away…”

“What’s your name?” He asked gently. Reminded of how close he was, the girl got a good look at him and spooked again, ducking back into her hideyhole.

“Sophia.” She shifted further back into the shadows

“What happened, Sophia?” He unbuckled his cloak, folding it and then carefully setting it on the ground in front of her burrow. It was well into summer, but the nights were still cold beneath the trees. She didn’t look to be wearing much, but he wasn’t sure if she’d accept the peace offering.

“I was serving at the public house.” She sniffled miserably but made no attempt to grab for the cloak. “There was a group of strangers there that all paid good money so the owner said to me ‘be nice to them, girl’ even though I didn’t like them above half. One says to me to go bring a plate of food to his friend in the stable, so I go. Only, when I got there two of them tied me up and shoved me in a sack! They said they were going to sell me in the southlands!”

“Highwaymen, then.” Raziel sighed. “We’ve gotten word from some of the other villages with complaints, but had not run across them yet. You got away, it seems. Are you injured?”

“They stole my dress!” Sophia whispered bitterly. Seeming to have thought it over for long enough, she reached a hand out to first prod at, then retrieve the offered cloth. A few shuffling noises hinted at her draping it around herself. “They got me out of town right under the nose of that fool Dirk at the gate. I tried to shout. I did. But I could scarce breathe with the sackcloth and all… I was jounced along on the back of a horse for what felt like hours. I thought I was half way to Willendorf when they stopped to rest. If it wasn’t bad enough me being treated like baggage all that time, they took me down and stole my dress and told me I was to do whatever they wanted if I didn’t want to get beat.” Hiding her face in her hands again, she shook her head urgently. “I wasn’t going to do anything like _that_ so I ran! They weren’t expecting that.”

“No. I wager they weren’t.” Raziel had to chuckle at that, easily able to imagine the astounded looks on the thugs faces when their quailing virgin up and bolted into the trees in nothing but her under-shift. “I take it they didn’t catch you.”

“They didn’t tie me very well.” She stated as if sharing a confidence. “I got the knots out by biting them while I ran. After that… I’m good at hiding.” Sophia hugged her knees. “I always won those games as a child. Used to hide for hours in my attic and mum could never find me.” She sighed softly. “You found me.”

“I heard you crying.” Raziel confessed. Sparing a moment to look around their little patch of the woods, he could see nothing else that could threaten or upset the girl. Other than himself, at any rate. He crouched down again to peer in at her. “Well, it sounds as though you’ve had a bit of an adventure today. But I think I really ought to take you home now. It’s quite late, and you don’t belong out here.”

Sophia crept to the edge of her shelter to peer at him wide-eyed. “You’d do that? You’re not going to eat me?”

“I’m not particularly hungry just now.” He shrugged. “Besides, your village is known to us. It wouldn’t do to eat a neighbor without due cause. Come.” He held a hand out to her, “Let me assist you.”

Another tediously long pause and the girl seemed to accept him at last. Crawling free of her burrow, she took his hand as she sought to gain her feet. Pretty, but not beautiful, Sophia smiled bashfully for him as she sought to smooth the leaves out of her messy hair and still keep her borrowed cloak wrapped discreetly around her. From monster to nobleman, Raziel recognized her re-assessment of his character and allowed her the moment to organize herself. Young women of the region did not greet their betters in their underclothes. “I’m the weaver’s daughter, milord.” She bobbed a small curtsey. “Thank you for helping me.”

“I am Raziel.” He guided her around the tree, or tried to. The girl took a step and immediately faltered with a cry of pain. “You _are_ injured. Where is hurt?” He turned back to her, uncertain of what precisely was wrong, and what propriety would allow him to do about it.

“Just my ankle, blood-lord. I twisted it as I was running.” She bent down to rub at it and then tried to hobble forward again, determined to walk despite the pain. “I though given a rest, it’d be well enough, but it hurts like blazes.”

“I fear I am no doctor.” Raziel let her lean on his arm as he considered the additional information. “But surely you have one in the village.”

“We do.” Her eyes looked wet with fresh tears. “But I do not think I can walk that far.”

“It’s a good think I have a horse then, isn’t it.” Raziel shook his head at how easily she was dismayed. “If I may?” Not waiting for her to give her permission he expedited their trip back to the road by simply picking the slender girl up and carrying her.

Walking twenty miles with the girl in his arms might have been a nuisance, but getting her as far as his mount was an easy matter. She blushed and fidgeted in his arms but otherwise made no protest. Petting the animal’s nose to soothe it for the upcoming upset, he positioned the girl on her feet next to his saddle and eyed the distance candidly. “You ever ride a horse before?”

“No, milord.”

“Right.” He sighed. “I’m going to throw you up into the saddle. Try and get a good grip on the front and back once you can, or you may go up and over by accident and we’ll both feel like fools, alright?”

“I’ll try, sir.”

Having never performed the service for a girl before, Raziel was a little leery of how much force to apply, but somehow they managed on the first try. Sitting sideways on his long-suffering mount, Sophia shifted a little to find a less precarious perch, and then tucked his cloak around her slim legs. Looking along the road, she frowned as she got her bearings. “Which way do we go?”

“”West.” He gathered the horse’s reins and tugged the creature away from its grazing. “Won’t be more than an hour. Hold tight now until you grow used to the swaying. I won’t walk him fast.”

“Thank you milord.”

“I’m no lord, Sophia.” He had to laugh at her continued genuflection. Apparently now that he wasn’t going to eat her he’d been elevated to the position of savior. “I’m just a vampire.”

“Mum told me to always be polite to blood-born.” The girl disagreed. “Besides, you _are_ a lord. You have a horse, and a sword…”

“Both borrowed.” Raziel discouraged her.

“You have rich clothes, and boots.” She wasn’t swayed.

“Gifted to me by my betters.” He shook his head with a smile.

Sophia hid her giggle behind her hand. “I wager you can even read and write… And not just your own name!”

Raziel nodded. “Now there I confess I am guilty as charged. But that means that at most I’m a scholar, that doesn’t make me a noble.”

“Well you’re certainly not from a village like mine.” She remarked tartly, warming to their conversation. “You talk like a lord. And you’re hansom as one. Why then should you not wish to be called as such?”

“It’s just odd, I suppose.” He shrugged, guiding the horse, and with it the girl, along the road. He didn’t know what to say to her compliments so it seemed best to just overlook them. “I’m barely a soldier, more of a squire, I suppose.”

She laughed again. “Well a squire is usually the _son_ of someone important, isn’t he? So that would make you like a lord-in-training, wouldn’t it…”

“You are quite insistent.” He laughed as they came to the top of the hill.
The small junction of roads left him examining their options. “Mühlendorf? Or Stienbergdolf? He looked back and asked her.

Sophia was mute, staring behind her as well. Following her gaze Raziel blinked to see torchlight in the distance. In looking he could hear them as well, the clatter of running horses over the packed dirt. Only madmen and vampires dared run their horses at night even with the benefit of a full moon to help light the road. “The valley seems busy this evening,” he remarked mostly to himself as he drew his sword in preparation for the unknown.

“Are they brigands?” The girl clung to his mount as he turned the beast around.

Waiting for them to crest the hill Raziel finally got a clear view despite the wildly blowing capes and torch-flames. He exhaled in relief when one profile in particular became as familiar as his own. “No. Vampires.”

Sliding his sword back into its scabbard he raised his hand in hail instead. Turel shouted something to the lean-faced woman next to him and the pair reined in their mounts, forcing the rest of their party to do the same. Raiel took the precaution of backing his horse onto the edge of the road to yield the majority of the highway to his brother’s hunt.

“And a fair evening to you, brother?” He raised an eyebrow at his sibling’s dramatic entrance. “Where are you off to in such a hurry, I wonder…”

“Such a night as this is too fine for sedate living.” Turel leaned forward to smile at him, clearly energized by his recent activities. “It is for running… and for hunting. We have just had marvelous sport, Raziel, it was a shame you missed it.”

Raziel couldn’t help but grin at his brother’s good cheer. It was rare to se Turel enjoy himself to such a degree. Glancing towards the woman riding beside him, he noted she too had a flushed, pleased look about her. Sitting easily astride her horse she looked even more the huntress than ever before, flanked on both sides by her sisters in arms. Raziel leaned a little closer under the guise of patting his sibling’s horse. “I’d say it’d have been a shame if I’d been underfoot, from the looks of things. And I’ll wager good coin that that a different sort of sport might await you tonight so long as you don’t dally too long in getting home.”

Turel bit his cheek to keep from laughing, gesturing behind him towards where a string of un-used mounts were being led on a long tether. Several of the saddles were repurposed for carrying cargo, one had a crude bag of twisted netting full of what seemed to be heads. The other had a gibbering human hog-tied and draped like a sack of wheat. “We heading in that direction very soon. But for the moment we are on our way to make a delivery, as you see. We were given to understand that these fine gentlemen were owing restitution to the villages of the valley, and so we thought we’d do our part as land-barons to reunite these two sides now divided.”

“Or what’s left of them.” Raziel shook his head at the lonely last bandit. Keeping him alive was a token gesture, a straw man for the villagers to poke with sticks, or do whatever they pleased with. The rest had undoubtedly been eaten, their heads kept as trophy after the fact.

“You seem to have had some success in hunting as well.” Turel nodded to the girl Raziel was escorting. “What is she to be? A meal for tomorrow? Or a new serving wench for the fortress? A pretty pillow perhaps.”

“None of these, brother.” He shrugged. “It seems we are both delivery boys this evening. Although I should think mine was a trifle easier to come by. I found her lamed under a hedge through no fault of her own. I’m taking her home.”

Turel blinked and gave him a long look. “You _found_ her.”

“Yes. I just said that.” Raziel patted his brother’s horse again, smiling up at the befuddled vampire.

“And you’re taking her _home_.” Rubbing his forehead, his brother sighed in defeat. “You are unbelievable. Do you know that?”

Raziel laughed. “You can’t tell me you’re hungry. You just ran down ten bandits with your friends. That’s enough food to tide even your oversized carcass until daybreak. Leave off this little one, she’s barely a mouthful as it is.”

“It’s very sweet of you, Raziel.” Turel’s huntress smiled down at him, ignoring her companion’s frustrated gestures. “It will no doubt increase your already shining reputation amongst my sisters when I tell them of your chivalry.”

“My lady you are too kind.” He bowed slightly, “It is more likely they’ll mock my loss of opportunity than anything else, as my brothers shall.”

Tossing her blonde braid over her shoulder the vampiress shifted the quiver and bow slung across her back to a more comfortable spot as she looked over at Turel knowingly. “If anyone does mock you, they shall answer for it. There is nothing shameful in acting kindly towards our neighbors. The friendship of the valley is important to us. It proves that vampire and human can dwell together without anarchy…”

“It must be as you say, my lady.” Turel bowed in submission to the woman’s speech, both acknowledging her superiority and undoubtedly trying to regain her good opinion. Thankfully, she didn’t look the sort to hold a grudge. Patting his brother’s knee at the same time as addressing Sophia, the woman attempted a kind smile for the girl’s benefit. “Your home is…”

“Mühlendorf, my lady vampire.” Raziel looked over his shoulder to see the poor girl was actually trembling, sitting as straight as an arrow in the saddle as she submitted to inspection. What she made of the party of warrior women before her he couldn’t guess. Sophia’s looked seemed to be one of absolute awe. “As it please you, lady, these men… they’re the ones who tried to put the slave chain on me…”

“Then it seems their punishment was timely indeed.” The woman smiled brilliantly in the torchlight, her fangs evident in her fierce grin. “I despise that sort of man the most of all villains. However I fear your neighbors have prior claim on this survivor… he and his friends caused some considerable mayhem last night. I shall inform them on delivery however of your complaint. I’m sure the headman will invite you to witness whatever punishment they decide on, should you wish.”

“Thank you my lady.”

“In that case, I’ll leave you in Raziel’s excellent company child, that is… unless of course you would much rather to join my sisters and I? You might find life with us a most rewarding experience…”

Biting his tongue to hide his surprise, Raziel shot Turel an incredulous look. His brother returned it with one of resigned amusement. The recruiting ability of Vorador’s wives was famed for more than just their knack of scooping up wayward mercenaries with a wink and a smile. He doubted Sophia would be the first, or the last farm-girl who’d been initiated into their sisterhood after being dazzled by the womens’ prowess.

“As it please you… I feel I should best return home. That is, if you’ll pardon me.” The girl stuttered and raised her hands in hesitant refusal. “It’s only that my father is old, lady, and I know the business, that and I have a friend waiting who says he’ll make me a good husband… so thanking you kindly…”

“You have only to call at the fortress any afternoon, if you should ever change your mind. Tell them that you are a friend of Teegan and you shall be well looked after.” With a wave of her torch and a shout, she and Turel were moving past them, picking up speed as they turned through the crossing and disappeared on the north road.

Raziel shook his head in amazement at the woman’s poise. “There, Sophia, goes a noblewoman for you. Come. We’ll get you home.”

Walking another quarter mile in silence he found his charge to be much startled by their chance encounter. Luckily he knew the route to her town well enough to get there without guidance. Only when the stockade became visible from the road did Sophia shake off her shock and return to herself. “And to think, until tonight I’d only ever met two vampires my whole life, and never by name…”

“Well I can’t say I’ve known that many humans so far in my life, so I’d say we’re about square.” He snorted in amusement as he banged his fist on the wooden gate. “Hey now. Gate-man. I have a lost sheep that needs returning to the fold! Open up!”

“Who goes there? Man or Vampire?” A surly voice called from the other side.

“Both, my-sleepy-steward. I am a tenant of the Sanctuary by the lake. But I have with me Sophia, the weaver’s daughter whom I discovered along the road in some distress. Will you take her off my hands? Or will you be so unkind as to compel me to leave her standing here helpless until morning comes?”

“For god’s sake, Dirk, open the damned door.” Sophia cried to the man. “I’m only out here thanks to you being too stupid to see I was being taken in the first place.”

The bar was lifted and the side-gate opened to a fearful looking man with a mace. “It _is_ you, girl. Your parents have been worrying themselves sick. Where you been?!”

Helping her down from his horse, Raziel bowed over her hand, and then gestured she could make good her escape. “Send the cloak along with whomever does your bartering with us, Sophia, there’s no rush.”

She blushed and smiled at him. “I did not think there were vampires such as you, milord. Thank you. Thank you a thousand times.”

“I am your servant, madam.” He swung up into his saddle, wondering if he could still beat Turel home if he cut overland. Undoubtedly the gossip would be flying fast and hot. If he was going to be laughed at as a kindhearted fool, at least he wanted to be present to defend himself against the more absurd exaggerations.