Crimson's Captivation (10 page)

Darya and Uric watched for several minutes.
Darya grabbed Uric’s hand, and whispered, “Come with me. If you
can’t please me with your cock, you shall do so with your mouth.
The sensation of the tongue and mouth on a body is exceptional, you
know that, right? You can do that, what Sergen is doing,
right?”

“Yes, my lady.”

Darya paused and gave Uric a look that
communicated she was doubtful.

They stopped in the hallway. “Know this, even
if you do please me, and I suggest you take it slow. You should
survey all of my body before you please me. I still expect Sergen
to be at my bed this evening, and I want you there, as well, to
watch, and learn.”

* * * *

Uric did an exceptional job at pleasing her
with his mouth. He didn’t rush in. Even as overbearing as Darya
was, she was beautiful, and he enjoyed examining every inch of her
body. He focused on areas that are rarely touched. When he first
pressed his lips to her sex, brought his mouth to her clitoris, she
was so excited, that she shoved him away, but he pursued and
captured her. Soon, her fingers tousled his hair, and she accepted
the pleasure, and, used the tips of her fingers to pull him onto
her.

Some time later, Sergen and Crimson were
exhausted as they were led to the bathing room. Crimson had just
had countless orgasms or one long orgasm, she wasn’t sure, and her
body was still in a shockwave of warmness and tingles. She felt
weak and out of touch with the world.

After being bathed, and oiled, they quickly
fell asleep in their chambers.

Later that night, Uric woke Sergen and
convinced him to sneak to Darya’s bedroom where they found her
wide-awake with anticipation.

Sergen was flaccid, but quickly warmed up as
Darya went down on him. Rapidly, he was erect and ready.

Darya ran her hands over the length of him,
“My, I’m not sure I can handle all of you. You shouldn’t be gentle,
but do be careful, and quiet. We don’t want to wake my mother.
Uric, I want you to watch.”

Sergen reached between her legs and Darya was
on fire and slick. He gathered her legs on his shoulders and guided
his cock toward her. He teased her clitoris with the head of his
cock, and then entered her several inches until he felt her tighten
around him. Then he slid out and entered even more deeply.

She instantly grabbed his thighs, trying her
best to control and slow his progress.

Another inch and her nails dug into his legs,
leaving imprints and red scratch marks. She removed a thin layer of
skin.

Another inch and the palms of her hands
pushed against his stomach.

Another inch and her right hand found her
right breast and embraced it, massaging it while her left arm
lifted her left leg into the air.

Another inch and she let go of her breast and
leg. She let her legs fall onto his shoulders, and grasped the
sheets above her head trying her best to pull away from him.

“No more,” she pleaded, but it was a lie. He
knew it. She knew it. She reached up, grasped his neck and pulled
him close. “I love you,” she whispered and kissed him. She pulled
herself up to his chest, rested her head on his shoulders. “Say you
love me, too.”

Sergen didn’t respond. He, instead, inched
deeper inside her and she let go and fell to the bed.

Uric watched her reactions and he was erect.
He approached the bed and moved toward Darya’s mouth. Just then,
the door creaked open and the countess entered the room.

“What do we have here? Darya, I believe my
order was for you to only have Uric? To train him? I don’t think my
instructions were vague.”

Darya slowly opened her eyes. She was unable
to speak, but knew she wasn’t finished. She despised the intrusion
and scowled at her mother.

The countess exited the room, left the door
open, and shouted down the hallway. “I require a caretaker and
guards, NOW!”

PART II

Warfare

Chapter I

~ Warfare and the Honor of Men ~

Viktor grew
impatient. The ride to Nyberg took all of the night and the better
part of the next morning. Not only was the trip long, it was in the
opposite direction of the horrors that held Crimson. His thoughts
always pulled him eastward, and his heart grew heavier with each
step west. Nyberg was at least a full day’s travel west, so he dug
in deep and pushed his horse to its natural limit. Often, he
thought of turning around and taking his chances with the horrors,
but the slash across his chest was healing, itching, and an
agonizing reminder of how close he had quickly come to death. And
dead he’d be no good to Crimson. Nevertheless, grave concern, and a
sense of desertion, tormented him. He knew that he should’ve been
boarding a boat by now and heading toward Finland. Soon the deep
freeze of winter would be upon them and no one would be traveling
anywhere, much less across the Baltic.

The wind whipped fiercely off Lake Malaren
where it marshaled miniature icy raindrops into small whirlwinds
that strafed him and his men. It didn’t appear to matter if they
were on the move or taking shelter, the wind reached them wherever
they were and chilled them to the core. Viktor was never so happy
to see a village, as he was when they finally made it to the
outskirts of Nyberg. The two guards with him were even bleaker
about the prospects. Their optimism of the adventure had already
given way to unease and uncertainty.

Viktor wasted no time. He immediately found
Johan in the small village and produced the written decree from the
princess. Johan studied the document, handed it back, and said in
an annoyed manner, “I’m in the middle of training pikemen at the
moment. I can train you and your men in a couple of days.”

“A couple of days?”

“Yes, lad. We are at war, you know.”

Viktor’s eyes widened and seemed to amplify
his shock. “I’m aware of the war! Sir, this ... it cannot wait, you
must train us now.” Viktor lied, “the historian who travels with
King Charles has been captured by the horrors of the night and I’ve
been given the mission of rescue. I will find him with or without
your help, but know this, I will tell him that you refused to train
us. I will tell the king and his historian, if found alive, that
you, sir, Johan of Nyberg, felt he wasn’t important enough.”

Johan didn’t struggle with the decision long.
“Sir, that is black mail,” but he didn’t want to cross the king,
“If I’m to do this, then it must be quick. Historian or not, my
duties are clearly set forth by the king and my duty is to Sweden,
not Princess Sophia and certainly not to you. Stable your horses
and meet me in the library in the middle of the village.” Johan
stomped off mumbling to himself.

When the three settled in the library, Johan
began his teachings. He explained that vampires absorb light waves
as a form of radiant heat. “This is why they cast no shadow or
reflection,” he said. “You see, their skin absorbs the light and
prevents refraction.”

“I understand why they would cast no
reflection, but why no shadow?” Viktor asked.

“It’s the absorption of light that makes them
visible; in actuality, they are little more than mist, although a
deadly mist to be sure.”

Viktor opened his shirt, ran his finger along
the slash left by Caspian. He showed Johan the wound, “Johan, I’ve
battled with these horrors, I can assure you they are not
mist.”

Johan nodded, closed the reference book,
walked toward the table at the back of the library and collected
three of the prepared cloth satchels. “True, they are skin, muscle,
and bones, but their souls are mist. We’re not sure why they cast
no reflection or no shadow. I contend it’s because they have no
soul, but it’s only my opinion.”

Johan handed each man a satchel that
contained six branches of wild rose, a string of garlic, and a vial
of salt.

“Place the branch of wild rose over the grave
of a horror and he will not be able to cross it. The use of garlic
has been practiced of years. It cleans the blood and for some
reason, vampires, prefer murky blood. Crush the garlic into your
drinks and food daily. Some say the smell of garlic wards off
vampires. I say don’t let them get that close. Follow me,” he
ordered.

He then led the men outside. They crossed the
drill field that made up the interior of the small town. Pikemen
practiced by lunging at straw enemies and dripped of sweat in the
cool winter air. Behind a row of buildings used for instruction
training, they came upon a metal cage that contained a captured
vampire. “This is Vance,” Johan said. “He’s been used as a training
tool for years, isn’t that right, Vance?”

Vance grabbed the bars and shook the cage
violently. “Let me go, old man.”

“Certainly.” Johan placed a line of salt
across the threshold of the cage and opened the door. “You’re free
to leave, Vance. Do tell the others I send my love.”

Vance hissed and sought shelter at the back
of the cage.

“They can’t cross a line of salt,” Johan
noted as he closed the door and secured the lock back in place.
“When you sleep during your travels, you could use the salt to
protect your parameter. But remember, it’s expensive and you will
not receive additional supplies, so use it sparingly. However, know
that many castles keep an abundance of salt on hand.”

Johan tapped on the metal of the cage. “I
have a treat for you, Vance, a nice, fat muskrat. I’ll give it to
you if you tell my companions why you fear the silver cross.”

Vance was starving and answered immediately,
“it only works on us if we were religious before the turn. Those
that were religious feel that they are cursed, that they are being
punished.”

“Why not just revoke your religious belief?”
Viktor asked.

Vance inched toward Viktor. “We are reborn
the moment of the turn. If, at that time, we seek the help of
religion, call out for God to save us, then we are tarnished
against the view of a cross.”

“So did you call out to God?” Viktor
asked.

Vance didn’t respond.

“So not all of you would be repelled by the
cross?” Viktor pressed.

“Open the door and test me,” Vance mocked as
he eyed Viktor. The hair on the back of Viktor’s neck stiffened and
he inched away from the cage.

“This brings us to our final instruction.
Follow me, gentlemen,” Johan said, “On how to kill a vampire.”

“Wait, so it’s true that not all vampires are
repelled by the cross?” Viktor asked.

Johan watched Vance retreat to the back of
the cage. Watched him curl up in the corner, his long fingernails
scraped the shape of a cross in the ground. “We’re just not sure.
How could we be? Be safe and assume not,” Johan responded.

“What of my rat?” Vance shouted as he watched
them walk away. “What of my rat!”

Johan led them back across the drill
field.

“Was Vance one of us?” the younger soldier in
the group asked.

“It’s hard to say,” Johan responded, “he’s
not very talkative and most of them don’t appear to remember much
of their previous lives. I suspect he was, at one time, an
Englishman. We should head back to the library.”

In the library, Johan opened an old book that
had been used so often its pages were loose from the binding glue.
He read from the king’s decree. “The only acceptable way to kill a
vampire is to pierce its heart with a wooden stake. Although
exposure to sunlight may work, the king feels this is unjustly
cruel. Remember, men, these horrors were once as human as you and
I. Some are even our brethren. Death must find them, but it must be
respectful and quick.”

Johan selected three silver crosses from a
purple pall and approached the men. He placed a cross in Viktor’s
hand and recited, “With the blessing of the king, may you be
protected.” He did the same for Viktor’s guardians.

Viktor placed the cross around his neck.
“Thank you, Johan. We shall test these methods tonight, for we will
ride this afternoon, after proper preparations for our horses and
ourselves.”

The guards placed the crosses around their
necks and looked at each other. As they approached the stables,
they were exhausted and begged Viktor to stay in the village this
night, and travel tomorrow morning.

He looked at the men without pity. “Prepare
yourselves, we will ride through the night on our way to Riga.”

* * * *

Sierida, Princess’s Sophia’s personal scribe,
and Sophia’s guardian, had to travel two more days than they had
anticipated. Their trek was slowed by a violent that made its way
throughout the Gulf of Finland. The blizzard whipped the seas into
a state of fury and forced their boat to land in Riga rather than
Parnu to the north as planned. When they finally landed in Finland,
the storm didn’t let up and buried the port city of Riga in snow.
Everything and everyone was at a standstill. At times, the snow
seemed to dump from the sky in solid sheets and then the wind piled
any loose snow into colossal snowy dunes as high as the quarters of
their horses. Sierida expected to find the king, his generals, and
statesmen headquartered in Riga with the battlefront at Parnu, but
learned Russia had surrendered Narva to the northeast in a
spectacular and quick battle. Sierida and her travelling guard were
bombarded with tales of the great battle as they made their way
northeast along the snowy military trail.

The second day the blizzard’s winds from the
north were strong and chilling, it seemed to find and exploit any
opening in their clothes. Sierida was thankful that very little
snow fell and they were finally making good time. Then the snow
came for a solid hour, so much so that they rode in complete
whiteout at times, barely able to see the snow covered pines and
spruce before them. They stopped often to get out of the wind, warm
up, and push past the desire to turn back to the safe harbor of
Riga.