The High King: A Tale of Alus (60 page)

 

and yours? A cold winter makes friends want to get

 

together after so many days indoors.”

 

Marek snorted derisively. “I wouldn’t know about

 

the cold days. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the

 

sun.”

 

Shrugging, Nick admitted, “Winter in Chicago,

 

there hasn’t been much sun to look at for the last few

 

months truthfully. You haven’t missed much lately

 

anyway.”

 

The vampires all chuckled at that. “I would also think that you haven’t spent nearly

 

every cold day inside either,” Marek added. “You tend to

 

patrol as often as we do. How often do you find strays I

 

wonder? I think that you’re better at finding them than

 

we are. I’ve always wondered at that. Do you have some

 

sixth sense for finding vampires?”

 

“My senses are hardly what yours are, I’m sure,”

 

the man replied vaguely. It wasn’t the first time that

 

Marek or one of his clan had asked the question. He

 

never told them a full lie about it. Having a sixth sense, or

 

whatever, for his kind was both accurate and hard to put

 

into exact words. It was also part of the mystery that

 

could help keep their group in check. They didn’t know

 

the range or true ability of his senses. That kept them

 

more honest.

 

The vampires all gave him a look that said they

 

knew he was avoiding a direct answer, but they had all

 

known each other for a long time. Nick was a man that

 

tended to keep his own counsel and kept such secrets to himself, even Vivian had never dragged the truth of his

 

full ability from him. She had her own secrets from him,

 

of course, so he didn’t feel bad about it.

 

“So what exactly brings you out on such a cold

 

night, my friend?” Marek asked getting right to the point

 

since Nick was obviously not going to give him a straight

 

answer.

 

“I had a vision. I believe that we may have a pack

 

of werewolves in the nearby area,” he stated it simply,

 

but the vampires all seemed surprised that he would

 

reveal what seemed like a typical secret that he might

 

keep to himself. Nick knew revealing that he might have

 

visions could seem like a personal thing to keep to

 

himself, but he wasn’t revealing all he had seen after all.

 

“Your clan may find evidence of them around soon.

 

There’s the possibility that you may even run into them. I

 

figured that I should warn you.” The five all became agitated and quick words

 

were exchanged between them. Nick waited for their

 

attention to inevitably return to him as the messenger.

 

Marek looked contemplative and that moment

 

led to Nicola speaking to him first. “You say it was a

 

dream? It couldn’t have just been a normal dream?”

 

Shaking his head, Nick explained, “I rarely sleep

 

and more rarely dream. This was a vision. It was too clear

 

and I could tell that it was more.”

 

“Did your vision give you a clue as to where they

 

might be?” Jake asked as Marek calmly let his people

 

speak. The questions were probably in the clan leader’s

 

mind as well.

 

“Just woods or a forest. It was vivid, but I didn’t

 

recognize any landmarks. I’ve begun researching the net

 

looking for any sightings of wolves in the area. So far it’s

 

mostly claims of coyotes, but it’s one thing for a ranger to make a statement based off of prints as opposed to some

 

family on a picnic that sees movement in the forest.”

 

Jake added, “The humans see what they think

 

they should see. Most aren’t ready to see monsters. It’s

 

part of how vampires have only been portrayed as fiction

 

rather than reality.

 

“If they’re told that coyotes may be moving back

 

into the area, then that’s what they’ll believe first. Do you

 

plan to check out every story? Werewolves aren’t likely to

 

be bound just by a hunting territory. They are human as

 

well. I doubt that they will be found living in the woods.”

 

Nick shrugged. “I was thinking of following up on

 

the most likely reports. The ones involving forest rangers

 

should be most accurate. Once I find a likely area, then I

 

suppose I just have to stake out the area on a full moon?”

 

The vampires laughed at that. Marek explained

 

why as he said, “You don’t think they run around just on a

 

full moon, do you? Young werewolves may be bound to the cycles of the moon, but older ones learn to change

 

when they want. It’s why vampires can’t just hunt them

 

out when they would be in human form for twenty-seven

 

days. They are not that vulnerable.”

 

Seeing Nick’s surprise at their supposed

 

knowledge of werewolves, Nicola added, “We had a run

 

in with a pack a few decades ago and learned a lot. We

 

had seen the old movies. A few maybe even read horror

 

books, though I won’t name names,” her eyes glanced to

 

Marek. “Anyway, we found out that they could change

 

form by day and any night. Full moons are simply a night

 

they can’t control themselves.

 

“If you planned to stake out a full moon, you

 

might very well find them returning to the area, but they

 

are as intelligent as any human in either form. Well,

 

except the moon madness times, and then they still

 

retain at least some control. That means they could

 

realize they’ve been too obvious or noticed and then they

 

could change their haunts.” Nick leaned back into the couch in thought.

 

Being reminded that these weren’t just monsters was a

 

reason for coming. He had been thinking of the creatures

 

as just beasts, but still he had little more to go on for

 

finding a pack. If they didn’t have at least some of the

 

instincts and habits of the wolves they became, the voran

 

was going to have a near impossible time of finding them.
The Emperor’s Shadow War
Chapter 1

The smells of blood and death lay upon the plain. The orange light of a new day's sun added its color to the already crimson stained earth. The cries of crows broke the still air with their raucous calls of delight and the occasional squabble over a choice piece of meat. The fights ended quickly though. There was more than enough for even their great numbers, but the large ebony marauders had their work cut out for them even still. Armor that had sought to protect the men of Certe in life resisted the strength of their beaks even though it had failed its responsibility so completely.

A sudden movement from the center of the dead startled the scavengers from their fare. The air turned dark as the flock lifted angrily from their meals. A groan from the final surviving defender was drowned out by the squawks of the brazen birds. The warrior fought his way weakly to his knees. A hand brushed absently at the blood blinding his vision. Looking back to the ground in front of him, the man found his broken sword.

The largest of the ravens swooped downwards to land before the man. It looked at him curiously. The man thought that he could see unbelief in the creature's eyes which mirrored that which he felt. It squawked at him as if to ask him how it was that he still lived.

A croak through his raw throat was his ineffectual retort. He coughed and the effort nearly threw him back onto his face in the gore. He spied an unopened canteen on a body nearby and reached out for it. Lifting the container to his mouth, the fallen warrior poured the liquid between his lips. He rinsed out his mouth and spit it back out. The water had turned red before it even touched the blood stained earth.

Pouring the contents of the canteen back into his mouth, he forced his throat to swallow. Once started, he couldn't stop until the vessel was drained.

The raven hadn't moved throughout the whole of his efforts.
The man stared at the creature in amazement. The thought of the scavenger drew him to look about him. The death surrounding him caused an unbidden gasp. He could tell that the hundreds of bodies belonged to his comrades and allies. The army of King Druin lay about him in great unkempt piles.
He forced himself to remember how the losses could possibly have happened. The sight of a dark misshapen body sent waves of memory flowing harshly back into his consciousness. Tears of bitterness and failure came unbidden as he remembered it all.
Dante Betrice of the Certe Alliance Guard had come with his comrades when reports of the dark horde invading their lands had come to them. King Druin ruled in the south of the alliance and had sent the first battalion to meet the unknown intruders. General Batist had confidently led his men to the plain of Turo and there the army found the horror of creatures not born of their world.
The creatures consisting of two main types wore black armor strangely discolored by a crimson gloss. The smaller creatures all had dark green skin, a green that resembled that of an evergreen in winter. Small and quick they darted in and out and around the humans with their long knives. If a man wasn't careful, the beasts would take swipes at his legs going for the tendons in particular. He had seen many fall to the tactic and the creatures were quick to pounce in small groups to finish their victim as well. If they didn't get the kill, their larger cousins would use their axes and clubs instead. With rough skin the color of oak bark, the creatures nearly the height of a full grown man and chests wider than a man's shoulder width, the larger beasts had formed a core through which their smaller cousins operated.
With power and speed, the dark warriors had quickly dismantled the entire command.
Dante had fought valiantly. Even as the men around him fell, he had continued to hold his ground. Dark creatures could be found slain in the midst of the Certe Guardsmen, many were the result of his work. Then the numbers had closed in on him. Their mass proved too strong for his blade and the shield he had carried was left in tatters.
This brought him back the question of his continued existence. "How can I be here?" he questioned the raven still before him.
Cocking its shiny black head at him curiously, the bird answered with a softer call. Dante looked at the creature before him in wonderment that it was still before him. Shaking his head slightly until he realized that the motion caused him dizziness, Dante then chose to try and stand. The raven retreated only slightly as it continued to watch.
Dante chose to ignore the bird and turned to the task of finding a suitable sword and shield to replace those that he had lost. He also found a pair of animal skin canteens and a couple of travel packs of food. He began eating ravenously. He had been famished. The hunger greater than he could ever remember.
He tossed a few scraps towards the raven though there was more than enough left here to feed it. Its comrades had already started withdrawing now that even their great appetites had been sated. His own hunger was as well now.
The task before him had to be a return to Castle Trea and to find out if any of the others had made it back to warn the king. Having eaten, he found his strength returning quickly. Dante began picking his way through the masses of dead. It was a disheartening experience. He found many a friend lying broken and often picked over by the scavengers. The body of General Batist was found near the rear of the battle surrounded by his personal guard.
Dante shook his head. The man had refused to flee though his command was being torn apart before him. Dante considered such an act foolish. The General should have retreated to the castle to warn the king. There was nothing to be gained by losing such an important man. His pride had caused the superb soldier to die which was a shame since Batist was a renowned strategist and tactician. In the face of such a loss, Dante guessed that he had been unwilling to admit defeat.
Picking up his pace as he finally was clear of the main killing field, Dante rushed as quickly as he could manage. The castle was nearly twenty miles south. If he could get there soon enough, he could prepare the king for what his troops would be facing.
Walking all day, Dante spotted smoke ahead of him. A dark flash and the soft rustle of wings, alerted him to the raven's presence again. It had followed him this far. Perhaps it was still certain of Dante's death and had chosen him as its future meal, he thought wryly. But as the bird soared on ahead towards the smoke, Dante realized that the bird would have something else to feed on first.
The bird had disappeared long ago, but Dante knew that the creature would be waiting ahead for him though he had no reason for such odd behavior. The warrior followed the road as best he could and before long he found the source of the smoke.
A small village, through which the army had passed only a day ago, was now a smoking ruin. As he entered the outskirts of the town, Dante could smell the death before him even as he had on the battlefield. Animals and scavenger birds were here as well. Most scattered at the approach of the man. The brazen raven appeared before him in the road and turned to him with a cry.
"So nice of you to wait," he mumbled sarcastically.
As he searched the village for any survivors, Dante began to wonder about something else. The invaders’ identity was entirely unknown to him. They had appeared out of virtually nowhere. Those that had alerted the king had not known from where they had come either. More than five hundred strong, a true army of odd creatures the likes of which had never been known to this region of the Taltan continent, if they had ever existed anywhere in all of the world of Alus, and they had just appeared out of nowhere to attack and destroy.
Armies of man they knew. There were even dwarves rumored to be a true race up in the north, though he had never seen one. The myths of a race of gargoyles and the existence of dragons had made their way to Certe. The source of old wives' tales to be told to naughty young children or around the campfire to try and spook the rawest of recruits, but now these aberrations were here. No wives’ tale this.
Dante could find no one left alive and so he proceeded south to warn the king, even as he continued to ask the unanswerable questions.
The raven followed revealing nothing to him.