Everliving Kings (the Heroes of Darkness Saga) (9 page)

The monk across the table frowned in conf
usion “In what way my Lady?”

“Well Brother Tuck, those people are mostly nomads in a desert environment and pigs waste a lot of water to cool off. That and you could no more herd pigs than you could cats, both would ignore you.” That thought sent a chuckle around the table.

Sir Robert watched as Julnar cocked her head to one side like a great bird of prey as she lifted a large leg off of her plate to study it. As she opened her mouth to sample the meat he got his first good look at the ivory fangs that had taken the place of her human canines. Robert could not take his eyes off of her as she tore a hunk of flesh from the bone and again closed her eyes to savor the experience.

It was not that he was trying to be rude, or even her stunning beauty that held him so e
nthralled, but the thought of being on the receiving end of one of those bites filled him with dread. He broke his gaze from the infected and her meal and for brief second locked eyes with the Vampire next to her. It was clear Anya had caught his reaction to the girl and had seen such a look many times before. Anya turned her attention back to the High Sheriff much to Sir Roberts’s relief.

“You were saying
Lord Sheriff?”

Brewer nodded his head as he wiped his mouth and put his fork down for the moment. “Yes, well I do think we do have a few things that will help us both with what we want. First of all you and the lady Julnar are under not only my protection, but also holy sanctuary. That was invoked when you first aske
d Brother James for help.”

The
Vampire raised her eyebrows in surprise and shot a glance the good friar’s way.

“Under our current English law,” He conti
nued, “you may invoke the rite of holy sanctuary only up to three times. Sadly each lasts for only three days to mimic the three days of grace the faithful believe surround the execution and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. Not even Lord Rathbone would dare violate the writ of holy sanctuary once granted. Even so you only have six days remaining for sanctuary.”

Anya frowned and said, “Even with the bles
sings of the church, for which I am most grateful by the way,” she said with a nod towards the Bishop, “the shifter pack with him are Celts, they have their own Gods and don’t give a damn about yours, that won’t stop them.”

Brewer nodded but went on, “True but we do have Friar Tuck here with his mystical prayers, I am sure we can hold them off for a bit.”

Brother James crossed himself and lifted his eyes to the heavens before grumbling something about being a man of god and not magic under his breath.

Undaunted by the holy man’s reaction the Sheriff went on. “Perhaps we can send Sir Robert and Brother Tuck out to slow them down.”

Sir Robert quickly agreed but Brother James had a handful of reasons why that would be both dangerous and foolhardy. Anya raised her left hand to silence the bickering and said, “That would be risky, go on.”

The Sheriff nodded before continuing. “Se
cond, I have a mercenary army of some fifty thousand French knights on the way here as we speak.”

At that the room exploded in questions and exclamations.

“What!?”

“…lost your mind!?”

“Dear God save us!”

“Really? How soon?”

“Is that a lot?”

Anya smiled and nodded at Julnar before as
king, “Will your King not notice a foreign army land on his shores?”

“If Prince John gave a hoot for tactics or wa
rfare he probably would. Lucky for us he cares far more for drinking himself stupid and where to put his winky next then the current events of the kingdom.”

Julnar
looked up with a frown and said, “Winky?”

Anya next to her leaned over and whispered an explanation in the girl’s ear causing her to flush red in the face and simply say, “Oh.”

Impervious to the distraction the High Sheriff continued, “With good weather in the channel and good winds from Calais they should land on the southern coast in a few days. I however did not want to rely solely on Prince John’s reaction, in the off chance he were sober enough to be offended, so I invited him here.”

Although surprise made its way around the table, it was the Sheriff’s own brother who spoke first. “Are you mad? What the devil would you invite that drunkard here for? You know as well as I that he is unstable and dangerous!”

The Sheriff smiled in response, “Yes I do. I also know the best way to keep a child entertained is to provide…gifts and games and…well distractions. He will be in the company of the Archbishop himself and…”

Once more the room was abuzz with concerns, “What?”

“Here?”

“How does that help?”

“To what end?”

The Sheriff held up his hands to still the w
aters, “Gentlemen, ladies please allow me to finish. I plan on holding a grand tournament! Games of skill, games of chance, feasting, drinking, axe throwing contests, tests of strength, archery and jousting! A grand time for all of our noble and Royal guests!” he said throwing up his hands as if that explained everything.

The table guests exchanged confused glances until the
Vampire spoke up. “But Sheriff, you left out the best parts of the Vampire v shifter-wolf battles, the blood, the screaming and the death all around! If you were planning on leaving all of that out I think you underestimate how hard it will be to avoid.”

The Sheriff just smiled and shook his head at the sarcasm. “No not at all my lady. Just as Holy sanctuary will stay the hand of
Lord Rathbone and his dogs, so too will a royal festival. And of course to top it all off we will have a formal grievance presented to both the King and the Archbishop discrediting Lord Rathbone and saving the fair Lady First!”

Bishop Brewer frowned and shook his head still not convinced that his
brother’s plan was a sound one. “And just how do you expect the word of a Vampire girl to mean more to Prince John than that of his richest land baron?!”

The Sheriff had expected this argument and leaned back in his chair with a smile. “Because my dear brother, we have proof
Lord Rathbone hired fifty thousand French knights to depose the Prince Regent and name himself King.”

Anya cut him off there, “So your plan is to tell the Prince your plan and then blame it on my father? That is just asinine enough it may work.”

The Bishop pounded the table with his fist, “You will put us all to the block! It won’t work! How can you gamble so much on the belief the Regent will take her side in this?” he shouted pointing towards the Vampire.

“Because my dear Brother, the Lady Anya will have the full weight of both my office and the church to back her argument.”

“So that’s it? You will risk everything we both have for this Vampire you just met?”

The Lady Anya looked from one brother to the next waiting for the same explanation as the rest of them, but if she were insulted by the Abbot’s words she did not let it show.

The Sheriff looked around the table taking in each face in turn and holding his trump card as long as he could.

Finally he leaned forward and placed his e
lbows on the table, took a deep breath and said, “No. Of course not! I would never risk my life for some random Vampire, but I would gladly lay down my life for the Lady First of Nottinghamshire…my wife.”

A moment of
shocked silence filled the room before every voice began to shout.

10

Distant howls ripped through the trees forcing th
e infected to open his eyes and scan for nearby danger. Tarik shook his head to clear it and pushed off of the tree he had been leaning against. The infected stumbled forward into a trot and forced his wandering mind to think.

“How long have I been running? Am I still g
oing south?” Tarik squinted up toward the sky trying to get a glimpse of the stars between the forest canopy branches. He could no longer hear the shifter-wolves crashing through the brush behind him, but that did not prove they had broken off their pursuit.

Another round of howling rolled over him sounding more distant than the last giving him a glimmer of hope he may have put some distance b
etween himself and the wolves.

Stumbling through the tree line
Tarik found himself in a farmer’s field, squared off and fenced in from the surrounding woods. A thick column of smoke rose up out of a stone chimney and he could see shadows moving in the candlelight of the small cottage near the far edge of the field. Taking a deep breath the Risen could smell the mixed broth and animal fat bubbling away above the fire in the cabins tiny hearth. With that a spasm of pain shot through his chest, doubling him over and leaving him gasping for breath.

“No!” he thought to himself as he struggled for control of his senses. The plague was killing him that much he knew, just as he had known it would since he first volunteered to join the Jinn in eternal life, but
how
he died he had hoped to control. With each passing hour the hunger inside of him pushed him closer to the brink of the madness he had been warned of. Without the Lady Anya to guide him and her blood to calm his mind, the threat of losing himself to the hunger was very real indeed.

Tarik
forced his mind to remember her words and fought to hold on to his memories. She had explained to both Tarik and Julnar that the path they had chosen was a dangerous one, and they would feel more pain then their human minds could even begin to understand, but if done correctly, the joys of their new experiences would outweigh the pain and suffering.

Tarik
closed his eyes and tried to hold an image of their faces, “No! I will not let you down!” he grumbled pushing himself up off of the ground and into a falling trot once more.

The
Risen thought it would be best to avoid the farmhouse and all the temptations of the farmer’s blood, if he began to feed on a human now in so weakened a state he knew he would not be able to control himself. From there he feared the bloodlust would quickly overwhelm him and his mind would be lost to the hunger.

“How long would it take?” he wondered, “Just how long would I roam about like a beast
with no memories or sense of self?” he wondered if he would ever recover from the madness and recall who he was. The very thought of spending the rest of his days as a mindless ghoul sent a shiver down his spine.

“No! I am
Tarik Aziz Al Qadib! I will not forget my forefathers! I will not forget my grandfathers! Think damn you think!” he admonished himself.

Just as the
Risen reached the tree line on the far side of the field he heard the sounds of screaming coming from the farmhouse. On the shifting night winds he could clearly smell the scent of fresh human blood, and with his newly gifted senses he could hear the growls of a large beast. Without a doubt the shifter named Shawn had been tracking him all along, but the smell of food from the farmhouse had distracted the creature. Tarik paused unsure if he should try to help the farmers or use the distraction as a chance to put some distance between himself and this dangerous beast.

Before he decided on his best course of action however, the back wall of the cabin exploded ou
tward as the giant creature smashed its way out of the structure to continue its pursuit. It scanned around until it spotted the shocked Tarik across the field. With an earsplitting howl the shifter beast unleashed its rage at the infected by charging full speed at him.

Tarik
let his shoulders slump just a bit as he realized he now had no chance to run. Taking a deep breath, he released his death grip on the hunger, knowing this madness of the dead he had fought so hard to control was the only thing that gave him a chance at survival.

Closing his eyes he opened himself up to the staggering amount of information now pouring in from all of his senses at once. He could feel the ground shake beneath his feet as the massive cre
ature closed in on him and taste the smell of blood that hung heavy in the air. Trusting his instincts he let his weight sink low into his legs as he bent his knees and prepared to move.

Shawn dove at the
Risen at a full run but had no chance to strike him, as the Risen leaped to his right just as the shifter reached him.

The wolf-man dug his paws deep into the soft tilled earth and flailed about to change the direction of his attack.
Tarik launched himself at the massive creature as it passed and caught him full in the ribs with his right knee. The unexpected blow sent the wolf creature tumbling off to its right. Once he regained his footing Shawn crouched low and growled at his opponent with a new found respect.

Tarik
’s senses screamed in his head with the sounds and smells of more wolf-beings closing in on them and knew he was running out of time.

“I am not your enemy!” he shouted hoping to reason with the beast. As it was, his own pain and the smell of blood in the air made it difficult at best to concentrate. Even with his words of peace still ringing in his own ears he could feel his instincts driving him to attack and feed on this creature. The only thing still keeping his mind in control was his wish to not fail the Lady Anya.

He could feel the power surging through his body at odds with his reason and screaming at him to drain the life from the wolf beast, but before either combatant could move, four hybrid shifters broke through the tree line to their left.

Shawn swung his massive head towards the wolves now far more concerned with dealing with r
ival shifters than the darkling he had been chasing.

The newcomers circled the pair before the leader of them spoke, “A darkling and a puppy? I find this more of an insult than you’re trespassing!” he rumbled in a half barking-growl of a voice.

Tarik hoped he would find a reasoning mind amongst them but doubted his luck. “We did not mean to trespass! This does not need to end in combat!”

Before the leader could answer him, one of his pack mates answered for him by launching itself at Shawn.
Tarik watched in amazement as the wolves clashed in midair growling and tearing at one another.

Shawn, being the larger of the two by far, managed to force his opponent to its back where the two continued to snap and tear at each other in a fury.

Upon seeing its comrade in danger, another shifter dove at Shawn to attack him from behind and latched onto his back.

This left the
Risen with a difficult choice of trying to escape while the shifters were busy clawing at one another, or trying to help the creature who had been tracking him through the forest all night.

Without thinking about it,
Tarik jumped onto the back of the newest combatant and tore at its neck with his fangs. The creature howled in pain and surprise as it tried to deal with this new threat on its back.

Shawn sensing something behind him
had changed, took one final swing at the wolf in front of him before swinging back with a backhand swipe. The blow caught the shifter full in the jaw with a loud cracking sound; causing the beast to fall limp at the Risen’s feet.

Shawn and
Tarik locked eyes before the shifter turned his attention towards the three remaining foes with a growl.

Now facing a united front of enraged shifter and a
Risen, the pack leader put his hands up to slow things down. “You are intruding on our lands! This is an act of war we will not overlook!”

Tarik
stepped over closer to Shawn feeling the shifter blood pounding in his head and screaming at him to attack again. Fighting with all of his remaining willpower he managed to growl back, “You attacked us first! We were defending ourselves!”

A series of howls broke the tension causing the local shifters to gather up their wounded co
mrade and head back to the forest.

Once the wolves were out of sight Shawn swung his gaze back to the
Risen. To Tarik’s surprise, he stopped growling and sniffed the air in the Risen’s direction. Shawn then flattened his ears to his head and leaped off towards the sounds of the distant howls.