Baxel lifted the leaf to his nose and inhaled deeply.
Then grimaced.
Mixed with the scent of blood was something acrid and demonic. Something which made his nostrils twitch.
Vampire.
So, one of those useless leeches had learned some pointless tricks and managed to dispose of the clan's latest juniors.
Their bodies had been left to rot among the trees. Already most of the meat from their flesh had been picked clean by scavengers, but there was enough evidence in the bones to give him a good impression of the vampire's tricks.
Full Moon Great Sword Art.
How had those bloodsuckers managed to learn his clan's most precious secrets? The thought made him scowl deeply.
He'd need to return to Draven immediately.
That thought didn't excite him. Not since he'd found what remained of Freck's corpse. Draven was always in a foul mood. Only his younger brother's humour had balanced him out.
Now what would happen?
Sighing, Baxel glanced up to where the ruined castle stood on top of the mountain's peak.
You stupid bastards don't know what you've done…
Then he turned and ran into the mist, leaving behind only one long forlorn howl for the spirits of his fallen brothers. In that howl was a promise to return.
Within the castle, Count Bela looked up from his desk.
He glanced to the open window as the echo of a wolf's howl called with ghostly sorrow from the valley below.
"Tsk," he breathed, then stood up and closed the window.
Behind him, the shadows flickered in the candle's glow. From the flickering shadows, a cowled figure stepped.
"You heard that?" Count Bela asked without turning.
"I did," Elder Amir said. "It was a vengeance cry."
"The bodies have been found, then."
"We should have hidden them."
"There was no point," Count Bela sighed. "Their sense of smell is too great. There's no way we could erase our traces even if we tried. Better to face them when they come."
"He's too weak."
The old count returned to his desk, picking up his pen. Dipping it into an inkpot, he started writing into the book again.
Without looking up, he gave a slow nod.
"Not for long, I should think."
"I hope you're right," the elder said. "I don't think the dogs will want to leave even a remnant of a remnant this time."
"It will not be easy." The count kept scrawling. "How are the fledglings?"
"They show some advancement, but their progress has slowed without him here to… motivate them." The elder pursed his lips. "Perhaps we should try again…"
"Hmm?"
"The Brides. We should reach out to them again. We can tell them things have changed."
"Do you think they will listen?"
"We could at least send a messenger to test their response…"
The count paused his writing.
Glancing at the window again, he nodded slowly.
"I shall think on it."
In a dark corner of the forest, a lone vampire crouched on a high tree's limb. Her crimson eyes glittered as they watched the Full Moon Clan's scout scamper through the trees below.
Katalin considered dropping down from the shadows and smashing his head in.
Something about the idea appealed to her enough that she spread her lips into a savage grin.
But the Court came first.
To attack the dog would invite death to the Court.
So, she watched instead.
Not moving. Feeling the limb sway beneath her feet. The gentle hush of the leaves surrounding her kept her heartbeat from being heard by the dog in his werewolf form.
When he was gone, she dropped to the ground without a sound and darted down the path in the opposite direction. She carried her mace in one hand and a small round shield on her left forearm.
It felt clumsy and unnatural most of the time, but who was she to fight the tradition of the Court. If Elder Laszlo said the mace was superior, then she would believe him.
Besides, she had to admit she liked the feel of the weapon as she crushed skulls with it.
There was something satisfying in a movement which pulverised bone and brain so efficiently.
"Kat!"
She barely turned her head to acknowledge the vampire who rushed out of the bushes and joined her in her race.
He, however, had to tear his eyes away from her sleek figure to check the path ahead. "Did you see him?"
"The dog?" Her voice was soft. Barely audible. "I saw him."
"What do you think he was doing here?"
"Fleeing."
"Tch," the other vampire grunted. "Can't you be serious? If those bastards are scouting the mountain, it might mean they're planning something."
"Maybe."
She stopped suddenly.
Her eyes flattened to slits as she stood in a small clearing.
The other vampire skidded to a halt beside her, his mace firm in his grip.
For a moment, they both stared at the collection of bones and rotted flesh. It wasn't hard to see these had been werewolves. Their mutated bones were proof of that.
But there were so many of them!
"What the Hell happened here?"
She shrugged. "Some dogs died."
"But who would do such a thing?" Then he sucked a deep breath and glanced sharply towards the castle above. "Have the attacked while we were away?"
"Why are you asking me?"
"I wasn't! I was just…" He snatched his temper and sighed again. "Why do you have to make things so difficult between us? We work well together, don't we?"
"I told you, Andras. I am a Knight. I will not be a Bride."
"But-"
"Find another woman," she said curtly. "There are plenty of stupid whores in town. They will do whatever you ask if you show them a fang."
Then she rushed away, leaving him standing alone among the bones.
"Tsk."
"She's not worth your time," a voice rasped. "I don't know why you bother."
"Because she's strong."
"From what I read, Brides aren't strong like us. They're something else."
"I don't care, Karlo." Anders clenched his fist tight around the mace. "I want her to be mine. We were made for each other. It's clear to me."
"It's not clear to her, though," Karlo snorted. "That's the problem."
"I'll convince her."
"I don't see how."
"I'll earn her respect."
"How?"
"I'll defeat her."
"At the Tourney?"
"Yes." His eyes glowed fiercely. "She is a woman who respects power above all. I will show her I am more powerful than anyone. Including her."
"Anders…" Karlo blew the air out hard from his cheeks. "I don't want to rub it in or anything, because it's clear you're having a moment. But we've all trained together for more than ten years now, and how many times have you beaten her?"
"That's not the point!"
"None."
"I've trained harder this past few weeks. I've learned the third movement with the mace."
"And she's up to the fifth…"
"It doesn't matter! I will use my trump card."
"Trump card?" Karlo looked confused. "What is that?"
"You'll see." Anders stared through the trees to where he thought she was running. "I'll change her mind."
"Right." Karlo rolled his eyes. "Well. Don't forget to wear your helm, that's all I'm saying…"
"You bastard," Anders hissed. "How dare you say that?"
"He's right, though," a heavy voice said ominously.
Both vampires turned to look at the large man who emerged silently from the forest. He was heavyset and muscular. He'd been fairly young when he'd been Turned and had retained the rugged good looks he'd been born with.
His eyes were smouldering with deep crimson light as he swept his gaze across the clearing. His brow creased into a deep frown.
"Elder Laszlo," Anders greeted him formally with a bow which was quickly imitated by Karlo.
"Forget about Katalin, Anders. It will only destroy your heart if you lust after something you cannot conquer."
"But-"
"Even if you beat her in combat, all you will succeed in doing is pushing her growth further beyond yours as she will only work to beat you again. You will create a cycle of animosity I don't think you want with her."
"I could-"
"Didn't I teach you strategy, boy?" The Elder crouched beside one of the skeletons and began poking about the bones. "You need to assess your enemy. Understand their weaknesses. Their strengths. Determine if they are someone you can mess with. Or someone you need to bow to. In this case, she is someone you cannot mess with. What you desire, you cannot have as she doesn't have it to give you."
Anders bit back a retort and instead closed his eyes and sighed as the elder's words permeated his brain.
A small bitter part of himself screamed that the elder didn't know what he was talking about. But the rational core which had been created by this very man in front of him was nodding in agreement.
What had he wanted?
For Katalin to give herself to him.
She was stubborn. She was persistent. She was obsessed with getting stronger.
She would die in combat one day against someone greater than her.
Could such a person ever submit to another?
"I… I will think on your words, elder."
"Hmph." Elder Laszlo's grunt was only slightly amused. "What do you think of the dogs?"
"Someone killed them," Karlo said. "Should we find them and thank them for their service?"
"Don't be glib, boy."
"I thought they'd attacked the Court," Anders said. "But it doesn't feel right."
Elder Laszlo held up a thigh bone. It had been cleanly severed.
"This was cut," he said. "A clean and powerful cut which didn't even splinter the bone."
"Cut?"
"With a sword," Elder Laszlo confirmed.
"But we don't use swords. No one at the Court has that skill."
"Maybe they fought each other?" Karlo offered. "Those dogs are barbarians who would do that sort of thing."
"Perhaps," the elder dropped the bones and looked up at the castle. "In any case, we should return quickly."
"Katalin has already gone ahead," Anders said, feeling his tongue stumble over her name. His emotions were still warm.
Elder Laszlo's smile twitched as though he'd expected it of her.
"Then let us follow in her footsteps."