Oathbreaker ch 10.11 - Prey (Patreon)

Calerus, the King of Talsyn, slowly lowered his hands as we faced one another. He ignored the vampire, and the light and music still emerging from the inn. The three of us stood alone on the street, and a light mist had rolled in to cast everything in haze. The presence of two strong undead made the air cold enough to frost my breath.

“You’re a long way from Talsyn,” I said. My guard was still up. I didn’t wear my armor or my cloak just then. There were plenty of deep shadows to draw forth my axe on a nighttime street, but the mist seemed to exude a faint lambency that left the darkness shallower than it should have been. Vicar was resting in my room inside the palace, leaving me with only a belt knife and Sidsel for protection should he decide to attack.

Calerus seemed to sense my hostility and made to speak, but a spasm went through him and he staggered, falling to one knee as he clutched his ribs. He started coughing violently, and the fit brought him the rest of the way down so he rolled onto his side and lay there.

Sidsel knelt by his side and inspected him a moment. “He’s badly wounded,” she said without apparent concern. “Something went right through his armor.”

She reached out, but Calerus caught her wrist and held it. His gaze, though fogged by pain, was fierce.

“I request… sanctuary.” Calerus spoke through clenched teeth, his every word an effort. “As a… signatory of the Accord, I…”

He tried to say more, but a gaseous fume very much like the lambent mist escaped his lips and his eyes rolled up into his head before he abruptly went limp. Sidsel arched her blond eyebrows at me. I stared at the unconscious Recusant and then at the inn.

“You know him,” Sidsel observed.

“So do you,” I said. “That’s Calerus Vyke.”

The vampire’s red eyes widened. “You’re joking. This old man?” She studied the unconscious monarch a moment longer and made a soft sound of surprise. “Bleeding Gates, you’re right! I didn’t recognize him. What’s happened to him?”

“He’s undead. A ghoul.” I knelt by Calerus, thinking about what to do. I couldn’t just take him inside the inn and let everyone know he was here. There would be too many questions, and many of those inside would see him as an enemy. It would be the same inside the palace. Our entry would be marked, there would be questions, and Rosanna would hear about it within the hour.

And why shouldn’t she? I thought. I should bring him to her, let her decide.

That was the old me talking. I was loyal to Rosanna in many ways still, and when it came to matters of politics I would acquiesce to her, but Calerus had come to me. If he’d wanted to see the Empress, he would have approached the gate openly and not found me on an empty street in the midst of a sorcerous mist.

It could be a trap. I reached out with my senses, trying to detect signs of more Things of Darkness lurking in the surrounding mist. I recognized this fog — it was the same sorcery used by the Mistwalker Company, and it allowed them to transpose anyone within its reach, a tactic they used to divide and confuse their victims. It also befuddled my spiritual senses and was probably how Calerus had gotten into Harrengate in the first place.

“I need to find out why he’s here,” I said aloud. “Before whatever he’s running from catches up.”

“You can’t be serious,” Sidsel argued. “This is the Lord of the Recusants! Hasur Vyke’s heir. I was there during the tournament, I know what this villain and his sister did.”

“He is a signatory of the Accord,” I said. “And he has the right to ask for safe passage. I’m the one who made it possible.” Looking at the vampire I added, “I wouldn’t expect you to resist me here, Mabsworn. I gave your lady a second chance as well.”

Sidsel snarled. “Evangeline Ark was a hero! Everything she did was to protect his land from worse monsters. Do not compare her to this filth.”

I could almost imagine Vicar’s whisper in my ear. She’s a fanatic. No point trying to argue.

“I choose to spare him,” I said. “Will you defy me?”

She glared a moment longer, but then seemed to relax. “No. It’s your folly. So what shall we do?”

“I need somewhere to take him. Somewhere we won’t be seen.”

Sidsel hummed. “My brother and I have a place. A… well, no use prevaricating, it’s our lair.”

I started at that. “How far?”

The vampiress studied her sword. “Not far. We’ll have some privacy there.”

I made my decision and hauled Calerus up over one shoulder. He was shockingly light even in armor. Turning to Sidsel I asked, “Where is your brother?”

“On the lookout for your assassin still,” she told me. “I haven’t seen him for two nights.”

That was worrying. Sidsel herself seemed unconcerned, so I let it go. “Take me to this lair. Let’s try not to be seen.”

Emma and the others would wonder where I’d gotten off to. I would have to apologize later.

The “lair” turned out to be a small house near the river. Old and run down, I guessed it had been abandoned well before the undead moved in. The reason became obvious quickly enough, when I entered and immediately felt the hostile presence inside. The house was haunted by an angry ghost, and I felt its hackles go up at my intrusion.

“Don’t mind the owner,” Sidsel told me cheerfully. “He’ll hiss and spit, but the likes of us have no fear of vermin, hm?”

I inspected the space. There was a hole in the roof through which a beam of moonlight shone through, and old furniture rotted with age. The mantle hadn’t been lit in years. There was a hallway leading to some other rooms, a stove, and a ladder up to an attic level. Whatever other signs of life and habitation there might once have been, age had taken most of it. I spotted an old doll in one corner, a little stuffed knight covered in dust.

“Probably happened during the war,” I muttered. The House War in the south had been a brutal span of years, though in truth it was only a precursor to the greater conflict that emerged during the burning of Seydis. The pain that lingered in some places made them very difficult to cleanse, even with regular efforts by the priesthood.

It’s no wonder so many clericons and preosters have fallen in with the Priory. Fire starts to seem like an appealing solution when nothing else seems to clean out the rot.

“My brother and I keep to the cellar during the daytime,” Sidsel said over my reverie, walking about the place like she was giving a tour. She righted a chair, which promptly tilted as its broken leg failed to balance it. She grimaced. “Not quite fit for a great lord, but I do hope you’ll forgive the lack of comforts. Alaster insisted we remain inconspicuous, and we had a lack of haunted castles or moldering crypts to lurk in.”

I studied the vampire with some bemusement. She’d stowed away her white House Ark cloak and platemail, opting for the kind of comfortable, practical clothes a courier or craftswoman might wear. Leggings instead of a skirt, with a short jacket and a lumpy hat. She moved with a predatory grace, and seemed to shine with a cold paleness that had nothing to do with skin color. The drab clothes and drab environment couldn’t hide what she was.

We put Calerus on the only intact bed, a rickety thing packed with now-rotten straw that might have once been comfortable. While neither Sidsel or I needed light to see, I lit a lantern anyway because sitting in the darkness tended to draw things and burning my powers needlessly carried risks. I sat a while and studied the unconscious man.

He did look old, though in truth he was young. Barely older than Emma by my guess. He’d been ravaged by a nightmarish childhood and the unkind touch of undeath. His mad father had locked him and his sister inside a tomb haunted by demons and ghosts, and he’d been forced to eat the bones of the ancient dead to gain the power to survive.

“So now we wait?” Sidsel asked me. She was leaning against the doorframe. There was no door, just some rotten fragments of wood.

“Yes.” I knew I couldn’t wait forever before my absence was marked and someone came looking for me. We’d stripped the young king of his traveler’s cloak and armor, so he lay bare-chested on the bed. Something had punched right through his cuirass, leaving a hole in his chest I suspected went into the lung. The injury was deep and his skin had bruised into a patchwork of purple-black lumps, indicating broken ribs and perhaps even a nasty infection. Were he still truly alive, it would have already killed him. His breathing rattled ominously, like there was broken glass inside him.

He needs a healer. A discreet one that won’t balk at working on the undead.

“Sidsel, I need you to do something else.”

Half an hour later, I met Lisette at the door. She was clearly on guard, and Penric had come with her. The old archer was watching Sidsel with the sort of focused calm he usually held when he was picking targets on the draw.

“You came alone?” I asked them.

“Of course they didn’t,” Tzanith said as she stepped out of a glamour. The same shroud also revealed Emma and Hendry as it dissipated. Lisette looked sheepish, but the others were ready for violence. None of them wore war gear, but there was a cut on Emma’s left forefinger that dripped blood and Hendry had his fists balled.

“I wanted to keep as few people aware of this as possible,” I said with exasperation.

Sidsel shrugged. “I tried, but they didn’t trust me. It might have been easier if you’d told them about my brother and I?”

“Yes,” Emma said with narrowing eyes. “It would have been nice if you’d told us you had new friends.”

“We thought you’d been taken captive,” Hendry added. “The party is still going on, but people noticed us leaving. If we aren’t back within the hour, then Myrice will probably bring in the cavalry. Literally.”

I sighed. “Come inside, all of you, before someone raises the alarm.” The street was empty this late at night, but all I needed was one nosy neighbor or foot patrol and there’d be some awkward questions later.

Everyone piled into the old house. I checked the street one more time, then closed the door and turned on them. Tzanith made elf-light to give the less nocturnal members of our group something to see by, and Sidsel shifted as far away from it as she could.

“Two things,” I started. “One, this is Sidsel Mabsworn. She was one of Evangeline Ark’s knights. She and her brother have now sworn their swords to me.”

I gave them the full story, from my last conversation with Evangeline to the appearance of the two vampires in the woods outside Harrengate. I also told them about the mysterious assassin who’d tried to kill me that night, who was still at large. I kept the story brief and to the point, and ended with the fact that Calerus Vyke was in a bed down the hall.

“Damn,” Penric said when I was done. “Anything else we should know, boss?”

Emma was angry. It was a dangerous anger, not the explosive kind that she was prone to when indignant or insulted but a cold and quiet thing that lurked in the angry set to her jaw and her focused stare. Lisette merely seemed worried, and Hendry thoughtful.

“Did Calerus say why he was here?” Tzanith asked me.

“No.” I shook my head. “He’s badly wounded. That’s why I needed Lisette.”

“Wounded and probably on the run from something,” Emma added darkly.

“I’ll see to him,” Lisette said, already moving to the back of the house. Penric went with her, and Sidsel muttered something about watching the street. She no doubt sensed the tension among the rest of us.

Emma glared at me for almost a full minute before speaking. “Why didn’t you tell us about the assassin? Or about the vampires? Do you not trust us?”

“I do trust you,” I said. “That’s not why.”

“Then why?” She demanded. “Why didn’t you go with us to Osheim?”

Hendry and Emma were both watching me with similar intensity then, and understanding began to dawn. Excuses came to my lips, ones I’d made to myself more than once, but I found them poor in that moment. I couldn’t help but think back on conversations I’d had with Vicar, of sleepless nights spent waiting and anticipating, of decisions I’d made and consequences that had yet to play out.

“It’s because he doesn’t trust the Choir,” Tzanith said, speaking for me as much to my surprise as the others. “Because he knows that they are divided and that at least some of them mean him harm. He is accumulating allies and resources separately from their sphere of influence so that when they decide to move against him, he has a chance at survival.”

Hendry gaped at the elf. Emma blinked once. I looked at Tzanith and sighed.

“When did you guess?” I asked her.

Tzanith’s smile held a note of sadness. “My queen is doing the same thing. It wasn’t so hard to see, not after you decided to leave the Choir’s service and then offered amnesty to Evangeline.”

It had started before Evangeline. When I’d decided to make a pact with Vicar. No, even earlier, when I’d taken the last embers from the Alder Table.

“That doesn’t explain why you kept us in the dark!” Emma insisted.

I gave her a steady look. “I wasn’t about to drag you into a conflict with the gods, Em. That’s my weight to bear, and you and the others have enough to worry about. Right now, the Choir is behind the Accord as far as I can tell and we have a common enemy.” For the time being, anyway. To Tzanith I said, “And it isn’t about protecting myself.”

Emma seemed to have more to say, but after exchanging a look with Hendry she calmed. “So what now?” She asked me. “What do we do with the king you have back there?”

That was an excellent question. “Finding out why he’s here seems like a good start. We also need to make sure whoever saw all of us leave your party aren’t suspicious. I’d like to get the full story from Calerus before the palace finds out he’s here.”

“I will see to that,” Tzanith said.

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“I’ll go as well,” Hendry said. “I’d like to get some of our gear in case anything happens, and someone should tell Ser Kaia there might be trouble.”

“That’s a good idea,” I said. “Just try not to give her specifics, and tell her I’ll explain later. I’m not going to keep Calerus a secret from the Empress forever. Just until I get the full story.”

“I’ll be back soon as I can,” Hendry told us. “I’ll grab your sword, Emma.”

He and Tzanith left then, so only Emma and I stood in the room. She shuffled and folded her arms.

“And what of these Bannerlands vampires?” She asked me. “Evangeline wasn’t some misunderstood victim, Alken. She was a monster, in ways that had nothing to do with drinking living blood. And if those two were her loyal minions, then they are not trustworthy.”

“If they wanted revenge, they’d have tried to take it already.” I sighed. “But you’re right, I don’t really trust them. For now, however, they’re useful. They’re looking for whoever tried to kill me that night, for one thing, and I have them on hand if those two wizards try anything I don’t like.”

Emma shook her head. “I feel like you’ve already replaced me. Like you did it knowing I wouldn’t be your shadow anymore.”

I stared at her in surprise. She wouldn’t meet my gaze.

“I never had that in mind,” I told her softly. “You’re not an asset, Emma. You’re like my sister. You know that, don’t you?”

She scoffed. “Oh, don’t be a sap. It comes off as manipulative in these circumstances.” She adjusted a lock of dark hair and sighed. “But yes, I know. I’m stressed. And a bit tipsy.” After a pause she added, “You know it can’t be a coincidence that he showed up the same day we found out that the Emperor is in trouble?”

She was right. Calerus being here at all meant trouble. Him being here now made my skin itch with worry.

We waited a time until Lisette and Penric emerged. The cleric’s hands were still shining a soft yellow hue from use of aura, and she looked tired. “He’s stable,” she said. “But it isn’t just his injuries. He’s weak. I’m not sure why, but his body is showing signs of degradation.”

“Starvation,” I said in a quiet voice. “I’ve seen it before. Catrin had looked much the same when she was fasting. My guess is that he’s not indulged his hunger in some time, so whatever wounded him did more damage than it would have otherwise.”

Lisette spread her hands. “There’s not much I can do. I sewed him back together best I could and reinforced him with aura, but it’s at best a temporary solution. His curse isn’t like Penric’s.”

The archer scratched his jaw. “Whatever did that to him was a nasty piece of work. We found bits of a claw broken off inside the wound, like from some kind of big beast. War chimera, maybe?”

“Show me,” I said. Penric produced a small bit of keratin, dark brown, sharp at one end and cracked at the other. It looked damp, and I knew it for what it was at a glance — the broken end of a claw.

I reached out to touch it, and immediately jerked my hand back. “Drop that!”

Penric blinked in surprise, but did as I ordered. The piece of claw fell to the dusty floor and bounced once. I summoned my axe and slammed it down. The fragment vanished in a plume of white-gold fire.

“What was it?” Emma asked.

“Demon,” I growled. “Couldn’t you feel it?” I directed the question to Lisette.

She looked shocked. “No… I should have! I’ve been trained to sense it…”

There was no time to wonder about that. I moved to the window and brushed the moth-eaten curtain aside, glancing out at the moonlit street. It was empty and quiet, but suddenly every shadow seemed like a well of menace.

“Whatever left that in him was probably tracking him with it. Demons can sense missing pieces of themselves…”

I trailed off as a sharp and grimly familiar sensation ate through my skin. The magic burning inside my chest whispered a warning. At the same time, the old nail wounds on my face began to prickle.

“It’s close,” I said as the pain made me squint my left eye. “It will come to finish off its prey.”