Morningstar (34 page)

An arrow of blinding light leapt from the bow of Jarek Mace, lancing upward, the point hammering into the segmented neck. As the demon reared up once more, a second arrow from Wulf struck one of the great wings, snapping a slender bone.

And the creature disappeared.

Megan fell to her knees. Mace and I ran to her side.

The blood on the ground floated up in a red mist before us, forming into a crimson face, the eyes glaring at Mace.

“I let Cataplas find you, Morningstar,” came a cold voice. “I wanted you to know your enemy and see your own fate. You cannot hide from me. I know your true name. I can find you wherever you go. There is no hiding place for the enemies of Golgoleth.”

Mace said nothing … and the face disappeared, blood splashing to the earth.

“Don’t ask me why, Mace,” said Wulf, “but I get the feeling he doesn’t like you.”

Mace forced a tight smile and helped Megan to her feet. Men began to gather around, their faces white and fearful in the moonlight.

“What will we do, Morningstar?” asked one.

“Get some sleep,” Mace told them, striding away.

Corlan approached me. “The wizard spoke the truth. We are dealing with the powers of hell. Can your enchantment protect us?”

“No, but the arrows Mace gave you can. You saw the shafts shining as they struck the demon. They are crafted with old magick, Corlan.”

“We need more than arrows,” he said.

“I know.”

“I’ll fight any man alive, any ten men. What I said today, I meant. I would take on the battle king himself. But … God in heaven!”

“Stay calm,” I advised him. “We’ll talk in the morning.” There was nothing else I could say. The evil was growing within the walls of Ziraccu, and I could think of no way to combat it. Megan was a powerful enchanter, but her spell of light had merely irritated the demon. And yet the strength in that spell was ten times, twenty perhaps, greater than anything I could create.

I strode into the cabin where Mace was sitting with Megan and Astiana. She looked old now and very frail. Pulling up a chair, I joined them.

“You can’t,” I heard Astiana say. “It would be madness.”

“Give me another choice,” Mace snapped, “and I’ll gladly take it.” Astiana shook her head and rose. Silently she left the cabin.

“What are you planning?” I asked him.

He ignored me, his gaze switching to Megan. “Well, can
you
help me?” he demanded.

“I will do what I can, Jarek. But you must understand that my strength is not what it was. I am like a child compared with Golgoleth.”

“Will you tell me what is going on?” I asked again.

“He is planning to enter Ziraccu,” answered Megan.

“It is a city of Vampyres,” I said. “You can’t mean it.”

“As I’ve just said to Astiana, if you could find another choice, I’d be willing to listen,” he answered.

“But what is your plan?”

“I’ll scale the walls, find Golgoleth, and cut his bastard head off!”

“Just like that?” I asked him, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice.

He swore then, and for a moment I thought he would strike me. Instead he turned his head and took a deep breath. Then he spoke. “Do you think I want to do this, Owen?” he said, not looking at me. “But you heard him. He says he can find me anywhere, and Megan tells me that is true. So what do I do? Wait until his Vampyre army enters the forest? Wait until the entire land is peopled by the undead? No.”

“Have you considered the possibility that he wants you to come to him? That it was why he appeared to you?”

“Yes, I have.”

“And how do you intend fighting off a hundred Vampyres, a thousand?”

“I shall enter the city in sunlight and find him before dark.”

“That will not help you greatly,” said Megan. “Forget the legends, Jarek. Vampyres do not like sunlight, but they can bear it. There will be sentries, hooded against the glare of the sun. And there will be men who have been spared—evil men, who are now servants of Golgoleth. They also will patrol the walls.”

“Then offer me a different plan!” he stormed.

“I cannot,” admitted Megan.

“Then it is settled. I’ll leave at dawn.”

“Alone?” I asked him.

He laughed then, the sound harsh and bitter. “No, I’ll ask for volunteers to accompany me, Owen.” He sneered. “Everyone loves the Morningstar. I’m sure they’ll all want to come.”

I wanted to offer, I desperately desired to find the strength to stand beside him. But at that moment I could not. My mouth was dry, my hands trembling. I looked away then.

“I’m going to get a couple of hours sleep,” said Mace, rising from the chair and moving to the pallet bed in the corner of the
room. Megan did not move; she sat staring into the dying fire, lost in thought.

I needed fresh air, for my stomach felt queasy. I walked outside to find Wulf, Piercollo, Astiana, and Ilka all sitting together in the moonlight. Silently I joined them.

“Did she talk him out of it?” asked Wulf.

“No.”

“It’s all over, then.” said the hunchback, staring down at the ground.

“It is so foolish,” put in Astiana. “He is throwing his life away.”

Ilka’s sweet voice whispered into my mind. “
What will you do, Owen?
”

I looked across at her and swallowed hard. I’d had time to gather my thoughts and my courage. “I’ll go with him,” I said aloud.

She smiled and nodded. “
As will I
.”

“I can’t do it,” said Wulf. “I want to, mind. Truly I do, but I can’t.”

“I will come also,” said Piercollo. “He rescued me from the torture. I owe him.”

Corlan approached with Brackban, Raul Raubert, and Scrymgeour. I stood and waited for them. It was Brackban who spoke first.

“We need to see the Morningstar.” he said.

“He is resting. Can it wait?”

“No. Everyone is terrified, on the verge of panic. Already we’ve lost fifty men. They just packed their belongings and fled into the forest.”

“What do you expect Mace to do?”

“Talk to them,” said Raul. “Inspire them with a strong speech—give them back their courage.”

“It is the wrong time, my friends,” I told them softly. “Mace is resting. And he needs that rest. Tomorrow he intends to enter the city and slay the Vampyre kings.”

“May God preserve us!” said Corlan, amazed. “Has he lost his mind?”

“No.”

“Does he … intend to go alone?”

“Yes.” I could see the relief in the outlaw’s face, and he read my thoughts.

“Do you think me a coward?” he asked.

“Far from it,” I said swiftly. “No man would relish the thought of entering Ziraccu. But I have spoken to Mace, and I think he is right. What else can we do? We could run, but they will come after us. We could hide, but they would find us.”

“He is a man of courage,” said Brackban, “but answer me this: Even if you get into the city and kill the kings, what then? How do you get out?”

“I don’t think Mace is concerned with getting out.”

We stood in silence then, and I watched their faces: Corlan, hawklike yet fearful; Brackban, strong, deep in thought; Raul Raubert, the nobleman, young and naïve, his expression troubled; and Scrymgeour, his feelings masked.

It was Raul Raubert who broke the silence. “I shall accompany him.” he said, his voice shaking.

“Why?” I asked.

“I am a knight,” he answered.

“What in hell’s name does that mean?” roared Corlan.

Raul was taken aback by the force of the words. “I … I don’t understand you.”

“You’re no better than me—just because you were born on silk sheets. A knight, you say? So you’ve had your shoulder tapped with a king’s sword. So what? You’re only a man like me.”

“I know that,” said Raul gently, “but there are vows that a knight makes on the eve of the king’s blessing. You know what I am saying, Owen. Can you explain it?”

I sighed. “A knight pledges to support the king and to defend the weak against the strength of evil. It was a vow laid down in law after Rabain destroyed Golgoleth.”

“Rabain and the knights,” corrected Raul.

“Yes, exactly. Rabain was said to have stormed the gray keep, leading the knights of the White Order.”

“So you see,” said Raul to Corlan, “I have to go. I don’t want to. But I have to.”

I could see the torment in Corlan’s eyes, and I knew what he was going through. He longed to make the same offer, but like myself in the cabin with Mace, he could not find the courage.

“I know what you are thinking,” I said to the outlaw. “You would like to go. But bear this in mind. Some of the leaders must stay or all the men will drift away.”

I saw him relax, and he smiled his thanks. Then he shook his head. “Brackban will stay. He is a leader of men. Me? I’m just a … a soldier. But I also made an oath. I took the soul fire into my veins. I swore to follow the Morningstar. And I’ll do it. By God, I’ll do it!”

When Mace emerged, the dawn light was seeping over the forest and the air was rich and fresh, the sky bright and cloudless, the last stars fading against the brightness of the sun. He moved into the doorway, tall and impressive, longbow in hand. He was wearing a dark brown leather jerkin over a shirt of white wool, leaf-green leggings, and knee-length doehide moccasins. He saw us and moved forward, his face expressionless.

“Come to bid me good luck?” he inquired.

“We’re coming with you,” I said.

“All the way?” he asked, a cynical smile accompanying the words.

“All the way,” agreed Corlan. “To the gates of hell and beyond.”

Mace said nothing, but his eyes raked the group, pausing on Raul Raubert, then sweeping onto Piercollo, Ilka, and myself. “A motley group of heroes,” said Mace, but the smile now was genuine. “Well, let us be on our way.”

We set off across the village toward the south and found Megan waiting at the edge of the trees. Mace halted before her. “I could do with a blessing,” he said softly.

“For what is worth, you have it,” she said, stepping forward and resting her hands on his shoulders. “I will be with you—not in the flesh but close by in the spirit. I cannot fight Golgoleth, but I can guide you and warn you of enemies close by. Now be warned—the Vampyres are fast and strong. They cannot be slain by iron or steel. The enchanted blades will destroy them. Or fire. Nothing else.” Turning to Piercollo, she smiled. “Your great strength will avail you nothing, Tuscanian. You must carry a weapon.”

“I will find something,” he said.

Megan swung to face the rest of us. “You are about to confront enemies of supernatural powers. They are cunning, powerful, and infinitely evil. All goodness is gone from the Vampyres. They live only to feed, and they strike faster than you would believe possible. But they can do more. They can
enter your hearts and make you fear them, and with that fear comes a slowing of the reflexes, a dulling of the mind. Do not engage in conversation with any of them. Faced with a Vampyre, you must kill it quickly. This may seem obvious to you now, but hold the thought in your minds. With the Vampyre kings it is even more necessary. They are also sorcerers of great power, they can be slain only by decapitation.”

“That’s an inspiring little speech,” said Mace.

“I am sorry,” Megan told him, “but it is better to know what you face.”

Mace sighed but said nothing more. Raul Raubert stepped forward.

“I think we should begin this … quest … with a prayer,” he said. “Let us kneel.”

I knew Mace had little faith in any god, yet he was the first to drop to one knee. The others followed until only I remained standing. Raul looked up at me. I felt foolish standing there and joined them. “Lord of all things,” said Raul, his voice deep and solemn, “be with your servants this day. Make our hearts pure as we face evil. Make our limbs strong as we fight your enemies. And deliver us from the power of the dark Amen.”

As we rose, Brackban and several of the officers approached us, Astiana with them. She moved alongside Mace. “May God be with you,” she said.

“There is a first time for everything,” he replied, forcing a smile.

Brackban reached out and took Mace’s hand. “Good luck to you, Morningstar,” he whispered.

“Don’t look so solemn,” Mace told him. “We’ll be back.”

Wulf came running across the clearing, longbow in hand.

“Where do you think you are going, little man?” Mace asked him.

“To Ziraccu,” answered the hunchback, scowling. “And don’t ask me why, because I don’t know.”

“The possibility of stupidity should not be ruled out,” quoted Mace.

Wulf grunted an obscenity that made us smile, and then Mace led us off toward the southeast.

The day was bright, but the clouds were gathering to the north, dark and gloomy. In the distance we could hear the far-off rumble of thunder. I walked alongside Ilka, holding to her hand. I
had tried to dissuade her from accompanying us, but she had been adamant.

“I would worry about you,” I told her.

“
And I, you
,” came her voice in my mind.
“But let us face it, Owen, I am a better fighter than you. At least with me there, you’ll have someone to protect you.”

It was a compelling argument, and I felt a little ashamed for accepting it. But in all honesty I was pleased she was there, and with the threat of death so close, I did not want to miss a single moment of her company.

We walked through most of the morning, halting for a brief lunch just after noon. Then we were on our way again, coming in sight of Ziraccu at dusk. The city was silent, the gates locked. But we could see sentries upon the walls, and I wondered what manner of men could agree so readily to serve the needs of the undead. Had they no heart, no conscience? What could they have been offered to make them become servants of evil?

But there was no answer to such a question. There never is. The workings of an evil mind cannot be gauged.

We made camp in a hollow and lit a small fire against a south-facing rock wall where the light could not be seen from the city. There was little conversation at first, for we all faced our fears in our own way. Ilka, whose talent was growing, could touch the minds of all the company, feeling their thoughts. Raul was thinking about his family and brighter, happier days in the north country. Corlan’s mind was roaming back over all the dark deeds he had committed, while Wulf was remembering his wife and lost children. Piercollo was recalling days of sunshine and grape harvesting in Tuscania, while Mace was quietly planning his route to the central palace.