The Misadventures of Ka-Ron the Knight (32 page)

"Hello, mother."

Ka-Ron choked on her tears.

The young man was En-Don!

"How," Ka-Ron tried to say, her panic overwhelmed by her fascination. "Keeth&how?"

"Mother, I do not mean disrespect to your station," En-Don said, his hands behind his back. "Father said it was quite allowable for me to wear your armor."

Ka-Ron stared at her son. She had no words to offer him. He was now a full-grown adult. There was no need for her to hold him. No need for him to seek the comfort of her breast. No need to seek nourishment. As a mother, Ka-Ron suddenly realized the harshness of Kai's curse.

She had lost all.

"En-Don, you look quite®al," the knight whispered, wiping away her tears.

"Please, do not cry," En-Don pleaded. Bending down on one knee, the young man took Ka-Ron by the hand.

The knight looked up at Keeth with concern.

"It appears that En-Don's intelligence, vocabulary, and skill with the sword are complete."

"It's true, Ka-Ron," Jatel stated, proud. "I have had a few rounds with him, and he is your son when it comes to the art of combat."

"So much the better." Ka-Ron said, embracing En-Don.

"They speak the truth, mother. I do not know how I come to do the things I do, but when I have to, the knowledge is there." En-Don's face beamed with amazement. And why not? He was only a few suns old in life. Everything was so new for him.

Realizing this, Ka-Ron placed her hands on her son's shoulders. Her former armor fit him quite well. He looked the part of a true and noble knight. She noticed that her son had strapped her sword to his side. It looked both regal and normal - as if the deadly weapon had been and always would be ready at his side.

"We will be at Mull Garden in a few cycles, Ka-Ron." Jatel informed his master.

"Then I should prepare."

The knight rose from her bed. Soon, she discovered that she was once more slim and healthy. There were no pains, and no evidence that she had just had a child. In fact, if a wizard were to inspect her, he would never have guessed that Ka-Ron had ever had or carried a child.

After getting over the amazing fact that she was fully healed, En-Don handed his mother a new dress.

Ka-Ron the knight had returned to her original feminine beauty.

A voice, perhaps Rohan's, yelled information from the bridge deck.

Mull Gardenwas in their sights.

"Shall I give you your sword, mother?"

"No, my son," Ka-Ron stated, buttoning up her dress. "You shall keep it for now. Should I need assistance, though&"

"I swear to come to your aid!"

Ka-Ron could not help but smile. In her son's attempt at bravado, she saw her youthful self in his eyes. She placed a loving hand upon En-Don's cheek, too moved to say anything.

All headed out on deck.

"Ka-Ron," Keeth said, pulling the knight back into the room.

"Yes, wizard?"

"There is a danger."

Ka-Ron swallowed hard.

She was all attention.

Count Voslow sat upon his throne with his eyes closed. He focused all of his attention on what his other senses were feeling. The constant dripping from the ceiling - how long it had been leaking? Even he could not say. The smell of rot forming along the west gate - the mold was becoming an incredible obstacle. And of course, there was the crying and the screaming coming from his courtroom. Between the desperate praying and the frantic pleas for help, the Count heard their blood move through terrified veins, and felt the heat of panic fill his castle with a vibrant energy.

The Gods forgive him&he loved it!

In mortal life, he had been a bold and noble figure. He had been respected, feared, and worshiped. These were the things he still held onto with an iron will, but they no longer served the purpose of his people. They now only existed to serve him. His handsome features held within them an incredible pain&so profound and so obvious that no mortal could bear looking on them. He was also tortured with the crystal clear memory and feeling of what he once had been.

This was his personal torment, and it was sweet.

A tickling sensation invaded the world of his right hand, causing the vampire to open one eye, lazily. Voslow was surprised to discover a sand spider trying to lay eggs between his thumb and forefinger. The idea that a living being considered, even for an instant, to create life where there was only death, was an ironic if not quite comical thought. The spider, about the size of a grape, burrowed its body halfway into the Count's dead flesh before he reached over and popped off its head. Stifling a giggle, Voslow licked the insect's juices off his fingers and returned to his nap.

What the vampire tried to ignore, if only for a moment, were the pitiful cries of those caged at his feet. In the Grand Ballroom of Mull Garden, where Voslow used to celebrate military victories when he had been human, there were row upon row a caged villagers waiting. Between pleas and tears of frantic horror, these caged individuals were to become a snack, meal, or happy entertainment for the Count. It really didn't matter what they were to him anymore. At his age, even food was boring.

"Your Excellency&"

Voslow lightly smirked at the sound of Anton, his loyal servant and feeder of his caged little treats.

Anton was a coward.

He had been the mayor of Cibola. All that needed to be understood of Anton was that he had a great fear of death and an insane fascination with pain. These two qualities made him a valuable tool. Whenever something needed to be done, and owing to his limits Voslow could not do them, Anton proved himself quite valuable. The Count did not trust this vile excuse for a man, but he did not underestimate him either. Anton was evil.

"What is it, Anton?" Voslow cleared his throat and gulped down the bloodied foam which had formed inside his gullet. Village people left quite a disgusting aftertaste.

"There is a missing house guest."

"What?"

Voslow opened his eyes, trying his best to blink away the need for sleep. Like most vampires of his order, he needed little rest.

"A guest&" Anton cowered at Voslow's feet. The man hid his head like a child expecting to be slapped. "She is gone from the castle."

Voslow made it an important point to treat each of his guests with a regal and honest comfort. Even when the Count was mortal, he was known for setting a good plate. Of all his mortal coils, being a good host was still a prideful thing to him.

"You have lost a guest?" Voslow rose from his throne. "Which one?"

"I believe you called her Molly."

Voslow's eyes widened. He remembered her - the one who made him feel embarrassed. The one that caught him feeding.

"Why was I not informed at the moment you first suspected?"

Anton raised his hands in desperation. "Master, I tried to bring her back. I ordered a flock of your followers to hunt her down. None have responded. Master, I fear that she has destroyed them all."

"Of course, she has," the vampire retorted, sneering pridefully. "I knew that when she turned she would become formidable."

Laughing, Anton agreed with his master. Still cowardly, he felt some degree of danger leaving the air, and started to raise himself to eye level with Voslow.

That was Anton's fatal mistake.

Count Voslow grabbed his little toady by the throat and squeezed the air from the terrorized man's lungs. As Anton's face turned an attractive shade of green, Voslow bared his sharp teeth. A shower of hungry and anticipating saliva started to drip down each fang.

"You have disappointed me, Anton." Voslow's voice started to throb with anger. "I do not tolerate disappointment."

"Master, I beg you&consider my service to you."

"Yes!" the vampire laughed. "Let us consider that."

"Thank you, my sire."

"You betrayed your people, your village, and your soul, just to save your pathetic life."

Anton did not respond. He was too busy trying to breathe.

"Anton, you have no hearts."

The pale man's eyes gawked wide and horrifically at his master, as Voslow tore his hand through his ribcage, ripping out one of his hearts. As he pulled the bloodied organ out, Anton screamed. The sound was music to the vampire's ears.

"Now, clean up this mess," Voslow said, releasing Anton and admiring his new snack. "And, pace yourself, Anton. You have only one heart left. Circulation of the blood is important. Only you can look out for your health."

Anton closed his eyes, licking away the shower of blood that came up from his mouth. As the wound around his chest filled in and healed, he took a silk rag from one of his pockets and wiped up the mess his master had made. If Anton had not already been a member of the undead, he would have surely died.

"Yes, Master."

"And save the blood."

Anton gave Voslow a look of surprise.

"You never know," Voslow explained. "Waste not, want not."

Anton shook his head, agreeing.

The Count returned to his cold, rotting, and wet throne. He closed his eyes, innocently flopping Anton's bleeding heart from hand to hand. Voslow licked his lips and bit into the organ as if it were a fresh piece of fruit. He chewed.

The castle stirred with awareness.

Voslow opened his eyes.

Something was coming toward the castle. Something the vampire had never seen before.

"And what is this?"

In the sky, several leagues away from Mull Garden, there was a flying machine of some kind. It appeared to be made of wood, and held its ground via a huge balloon or gas-filled tank unknown to Voslow. The ship seemed to be heading near the castle.

"Hmmm," Voslow mused. "This looks like fun."

The vampire closed his eyes, patiently waiting.

If anything, destiny was a subtle thing.

Keeth's hands held tightly to the
Argo's
wheel. As his ship slowly approached Mull Garden his features filled with troubled thoughts. Long ago, the wizard had trained himself not to judge a castle by its outward appearance, but, this time the old man held onto his childhood instincts. Mull Garden was not a good place.

Ka-Ron walked up to the wizard while softly stroking her flat stomach. It was quite obvious to Keeth that the knight appreciated having a trim and combat-ready body once again. Still, Keeth did admire Ka-Ron's female lines. And, as masculine as it sounded to him in his own mind, it was a cherished treasure to have something beautiful to gaze upon.

"So, that is where we are heading?" Ka-Ron whispered.

"Mull Garden," Keeth said. "Home of the first revolution."

"Keeth?"

The wizard was rather amused by the look of startled curiosity he was receiving from Ka-Ron.

"In her day, this castle held a rather strategic importance in the Nown nation."

"Interesting," Ka-Ron remarked. "During a time when we have less to worry about, wizard, I would like to hear the story."

"Ah!" Keeth said, turning the ship's wheel to coincide with their destination. "Said and done!"

Smiling kindly, Ka-Ron patted the wizard on the back.

"See there, Ka-Ron!" The wizard pointed towards the approaching castle. "See how Mull Garden is situated. See how it appears to be the center of this part of the universe. It sucks in all the goodness and light, killing both on contact." The wizard paused for a long time. "This will not end well."

"Yes, but wizard, it will end."

Keeth shook his head in agreement, pulling several of his special levers.

Slowly, gas started to escape from the
Argo's
huge balloon.

The
Argo
prepared to land.

Jatel found himself becoming more and more fatigued. At first, he surmised that he was still recovering, but no matter how at ease he appeared to be, or how well he followed Keeth's instructions, he constantly felt awkward and out of place. He tried to get some sleep by closing his eyes on his bed, but sleep would not come.

He awoke with a terrible pain.

Deep within his stomach, he felt the pain of hunger. He could not understand why, because before he retired to bed, he had tried to eat. As before, since Molly's attack, his hunger for food was low. He did seem to enjoy drinking a little wine given to him by Rohan. The elf did state that the beverage had been blessed by elfin wizards.

"For the gods! I feel so wrong," the squire stated, getting up from his troubled sleep. Walking over to a basin, the man splashed some water upon his face, hoping that its simple pleasures would calm him.

Jatel noticed his reflection in the mirror.

In horror, he slowly backed away.

In the mirror, Jatel noticed that his eyes had changed. They had become a bright red, and were glaring back at him with a remarkable power.

Jatel was becoming&

Molly felt the change.

She had been spending her time with both Rohan and Dorian, who had prepared a small meal all to themselves. The female vampire had encountered Ka-Ron briefly, but maintained her distance out of respect and a wish to survive. Molly could clearly sense Ka-Ron's distrust and hatred. She had been assured by Keeth that given enough time and success of their mission, the knight's feelings would ebb. Molly, being a realist, did not believe that to be so.

However, things were about to change.

"What is it, Molly?"

The vampire turned to notice Rohan's gentle eyes studying her. The elf was curious but had the good sense and manners to control his questions. Dorian, on the other hand was not so subtle.

"Tell us!" the dwarf demanded. "I am not too tolerable of secrets, my dear."

"So I can see," Molly whispered. There was an urgent energy in the air which seemed to grab at her like an invisible hook. "You will excuse me, please."

Rohan silently motioned with his hands, giving swift permission.

Molly headed towards Jatel's quarters.

I hope that I am not too late.

Molly had prepared a small bag of oils, herbs, and blessings for what lay ahead for the squire. Mindful of her own suffering, Molly was determined to make sure that Jatel's crossing over would be less stressful. She knew that everyone was working hard, and were quite dedicated to helping Jatel, but their goal was not practical. In case they failed, Jatel had to be fully prepared to live out the rest of his life as a vampire.