Kingdom of Argent, 1765
Earldom of Blackwater, Northern Argent
Huntington Plains
On the peak of a hill overlooking the city of Huntington, that served as the seat of power, four men sat on the cliff. The light of the halfmoon shone on their faces, and their blue eyes subtly reflected the light, giving them an almost imperceptible ethereal glow.
A vast plain stood between them and Huntington, and they could make out a small army of roughly a hundred men crossing it. At its head was a tall broad-shouldered man with long brown hair that he tied behind his head.
He looked up the hill and his gaze landed right on the four, who without fear returned it.
Lord Blackwater, two hundred and ninety four years old then, raised his hand and stopped the advance as the army reached the halfway point.
"Intelligent fellow," Lucas commented. "What do we do now?"
"He hasn't gone far from his stronghold. If we were to meet him in battle he can get assistance from the fortress and overwhelm our forces. We talk," Nik decided, getting up.
"We match their numbers, a hundred for a hundred. Tell the men to make noise to cover the sound of the rest of our men marching into the trees."
Ariel vanished, going halfway down the other side of the hill, where an army of four hundred vampires set up camp.
"I admire his spirit," Nik commented as the brothers followed after. "He is more like me than anyone."
"I doubt that's an admirable trait," Mikael said with a smile, and Nik laughed, ruffling his brother's hair.
They reached the camp and found a hundred men armed and ready. The brothers mounted horses and Nik shouted, "We move!"
The hundred men beat their weapons together and marched downhill, then went to meet Lord Blackwater's army. Behind them, the remaining three hundred followed closely behind, but stopped short of the clearing.
The two opposing forces faced each other, and Blackwater motioned for three men to follow him as he dismounted his horse and walked to the center of the field.
Nik and his brothers did the same, and the eight men met.
"Lord Blackwater," Nik greeted the older vampire, "have you come to concede?"
"Nikolas Asgeirsson, have the vampires in France frightened you so much you have decided that fighting a vampire nearly five times your age is a better gambit?" Blackwater asked threateningly.
"Look at me and see if I care," Nik retorted.
Lucas interjected, "Lord, war between us will cost us both in valuable men. It would be best if we avoid this charade and you simply submit. Else, I promise you, you yourself may survive, but you will lose more than half your men in the process."
The Earl laughed. "I commend your bravado, boys. This level of courage and fearlessness is rare. But it will get you killed unnecessarily."
He took a step closer and stared Nik right in the face. "You will take your men and leave my lands, and I will be bothered no more by your presence."
Without warning, the Earl was violently pushed backwards, and Ariel said coldly, "You, lord, will open the gates and surrender the city to us, and should we decide to let you live, you will serve under us as a vassal. And if that doesn't suit your taste, take a boat and row out of Argent."
Blackwater bared his fangs in anger and turned around, returning to his men.
The brothers did likewise and Mikael called, "Archers! Draw!"
The archers behind the trees drew their bows and waited. On the other side, the vampires drew their swords, others readying wooden staves.
"Charge!" Blackwater ordered.
"For glory! For fame! And for power!" The Asgeirsson brothers called out as the hundred men raised their voices in a deafening battlecry.
The first volley of arrows hurtled in the air and tore into the first and second lines of Blackwater's army, and a score of men fell never to rise again.
The Conquest of Argent had begun.
...
Alderman House, New Ashton City
Present Day, August 30th, 1923
"I'm yet to understand how the two of us are supposed to defeat an entire clan," Mikael said, rubbing his chin.
"The more you do that, the less chances you have of ever growing a beard," Ariel mocked him.
Mikael ignored him. "We need an army to fight these vampires, but we lack one because of the situation in the earldom."
Blackwater said, "There is an army. I have a hundred and fifty men."
Ariel chuckled. "Only fifty more than last time, eh?" Roland did not reply.
Mikael continued, "The way I see it, we will have to either break it from the inside..."
"Which is impossible," Ariel shot it down.
"Which is impossible," Mikael agreed. "Another option would be to rally the smaller vampire groups within the Earldom. How many are those?" he asked Blackwater, who shrugged.
"None," he said. "The other Supernaturals wiped most of them out in 1916. The men I have only survived because Huntington is the stronghold of the vampires. We suppressed the insurgence at the cost of half my men." He looked at Ariel as he finished his last sentence, forcing the prince to look away and mutter something similar to an apology.
"Have you made a head count of the men in your realm, lord?" Mikael inquired.
"I have. Blackwater is comprised of three cities and five towns. The total population of men is seventy five thousand. And the law of one vampire to five hundred humans puts me at my utmost limit."
"If push comes to shove, Roland, you might have to break that rule. Who made it up again?" Ariel asked, the question pointed at his brother.
"Lucas, I presume."
Blackwater suddenly said, "Come to think of it, there may be a few who survived. I seem to recall reports of vampiric activity south of Huntington. I will investigate further."
"That would be lovely," Ariel said.
The Lord of the North rose and said, "It has been a pleasure to meet you, my lords. I must return to Huntington, it is a day's journey if I do not rest. When shall I expect your presence?"
"As soon as we are finished here, we shall send word," Ariel said, offering Blackwater a handshake.
The older vampire left shortly after, leaving the brothers in silence.
"We must get going as well," Mikael said absentmindedly.
As they descended the stairs, he said, "I can't help but feel like this is taking us off track. We should be finding Nik, not meddling in vampire politics."
Ariel replied, "Look at it from my perspective, brother. We are being diverted, yes, but in that diversion we gain an army and the loyalty of one of the oldest vampires in Argent. We'll be able to help Lucas earn his recompense and give our family the strength it needs to fight for the restoration of our Kingdom."
They walked out of the Grand Hall and into the cold night air. As they crossed the street towards a carriage bearing the sigil of the House of Winchester, Ariel said, "We will find our brother. You thought it best for us to divide and search. We will do that, but let us consolidate our power here now first."
"I hear you, and I am proud of how much you have grown," Mikael said as they got into the carriage.
Ariel smiled. "I learned from the best."
...
Huntington Plains, 1765
True to their word, the brothers' forces dealt irreparable damage across the battlefield. Blackwater had not anticipated such ferocity.
After the first volley, the hidden army tricked in to replace the fallen. The advantage had already been taken.
Men fell on both sides, but like magic, the forces battling Huntington's defenders never changed.
Despite the neverending barrage, what stood out in Blackwater's eyes were the Asgeirsson siblings themselves.
In a bid to raise the morale of their men, they had discarded their weapons and used only their hands. The Earl watched as Lucas tore his hand through a man's chest, Mikael as he tore two heads off his opponents simultaneously, Ariel as he whirled around his foes untouched while tearing their hearts out....
And Nikolas, the fiercest of them all, who sank his arm into a man's ribcage and used him as a shield before throwing him into three men, knocking them off balance, then vanishing, appearing in front of them to reap their souls.
By the time Blackwater called a retreat, only fifteen men remained, and they fell one by one till only two were left.
Nik had caught one and was about to kill him when Blackwater rammed into him.
He tumbled on the ground and rolled for a bit but got up just as quick.
"How old are you, boy?" Blackwater asked him.
"I am fifty nine," Nik replied.
Blackwater nodded. "You four are a distance from your men, and I could kill you all right now."
Nik was joined by his brothers, who stood on either side of him, tensed up and ready for battle.
"But I will not," Blackwater continued before appearing in front of Ariel, his hand plunging through the youngest brother's chest to grip his heart. Ariel cried out in pain, and the Earl smiled darkly.
An arrow flitted in the air, aimed at the lord's head, but he turned and caught it.
That was all the time it took for him to lose focus, and he paid for it when a searing pain burned his back, and he felt a fist round his own heart.
Nik commanded, "You will let my brother go."
Blackwater did not move, and he watched with dismay as three hundred and forty eight vampires surrounded them.
"I will not repeat myself. Perhaps you believe you can survive without this?" Nik taunted, squeezing the beating heart and stopping its rhythmic thumping for a brief moment, inflicting a pain that made the older vampire scream and go limp for a moment, releasing Ariel's heart.
Blackwater stood supported by Nik's arm alone, and he coughed out blood.
One of the vampires handed Ariel a flask from which he drank greedily. His wounds began to heal faster, and soon he could at least stand.
"Take heed," Nik said to Blackwater. "You touch an Asgeirsson, you will meet an end so cruel even the devil will beg for mercy. Tell that to everyone else who dares to challenge us."
He dropped him to the ground and with his men marched into the city.
In the end, Blackwater retained his lordship and lands, but refused to give his allegiance, becoming a neutral lord in the Conquest. He did not meddle in the Asgeirssons' business, and they stayed wary of him, worried that he would in time exact revenge for his defeat.
But he never did.
Why? Only he knew, but something had happened during that fight.
...
Asgeirsson Manor, City of Caldera
Lucas made his way downstairs and into the courtyard, where a dinner table had been set. He beckoned to a servant and said, "Could you bring one of Ariel's wine bottles, please?" he asked him with a polite smile.
"Right away, my lord."
Just as the servant left, the great oak double doors leading into the courtyard from the Hall opened, and another servant let five people in.
Lucas beamed at his guests. "Welcome," he said, interrupting their wide-eyed appreciation of the Manor's regal, imposing fortress design.
Alan, Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack, commented, "Spectacular home," jealousy evident in his tone.
"Why, thank you," Lucas expressed his gratitude. "It was originally built as a fortress against both human and Supernatural back in the day, but the protections were nullified by a rather pesky witch in 1897. But it is lovely."
The prince let them sit at the table, then took his place at its head. He murmured a thanks to the servant as he placed the bottle of wine on the table, then briefly scanned the five werewolves who were to dine with him.
Three men and two women. From the look in their eyes, apart from Alan, the younger of the other men promised to be a nuisance. Lucas reckoned he was Alan's son.
The prince said, "Alan, old chap, care to share who my fellow dinnermates are?"
The Alpha grunted. "This is my family. This is my brother Ethan," gesturing to the older of his male companions, "my Luna, Nicole," gesturing to the older woman, "and my children, Liam and Charlie."
Liam gave Lucas a condescending look, prompting the vampire to grin and say, "Pleasure to meet you. To those who may have heard of me but never seen me, I am Prince Lucas Asgeirsson, and I am the oldest and strongest person in this room. So watch how you look at me, boy. I might mount your head on the wall."
Liam looked away, and Ethan asked, "Did you invite us here to threaten us, lord?"
Lucas shook his head. "Not at all, but the boy must be put in his place. Royalty is a rank to be respected."
"I am royalty," Liam, the twenty two year old son of the Alpha, complained.
Lucas smiled at him. "Of course you are, boy. Now, let's eat. Don't let the food go cold."
Charlie glanced at her brother and stifled a laugh.