Andy Remic - Vampire Warlords

"What? About how you'll beat my little girl? Nienna never did see past your mask, did she, the little fool. Dragged in by the stories of glory, dragged in by the myth but not the man. I'm surprised you haven't bruised her yet, Kell. Or maybe you have. I'm amazed she's still walking in a straight line. It was my leg you broke though, silly me for forgetting."

"Still the acid tongue, I see," snapped Kell. "Just like your mother! There are bigger things at stake here, now, in this time. Like Falanor! Like the world!"

"Pah! Like you give a damn about anything but your own horse-shit ego and petty desires. Can't you see, Kell, I am part of something bigger, now, part of something powerful! I am strong, Kell. I could take you, in battle, I could rip your arms from their sockets and piss on your face as you stumbled slipping in the mud." Her eyes were gleaming, cheeks flushed in triumph. "Go on Kell, let me out, let me show you! Or are you still the pathetic, weak, moaning coward you always were?"

"Tell me of Kuradek."

Sara laughed. "What would you like to know? He controls Jalder. We have turned, between us, many thousands into vampires! There is little of the resistance left."

"So they did resist you? That's good. Their spirits still live."

"No! It is foolish! Kuradek is Master, he is incredibly powerful and he knows you, Kell, oh yes he knows you, he remembers you from Helltop and he has sworn to hunt you down, to change you into one of us! Imagine it, Kell, imagine how powerful you would be! Increased strength, speed, and you could never die!"

"You die," snapped Kell. "You die just like everybody else. All we need do is cut off your head, or ram a sword through your necrotic heart."

Sara went quiet.

"You forget," said Kell. "I know your kind."

"You hunted vachine," sneered Sara. "They are weak, spineless, mechanised with their pathetic ticking clockwork! They are an aberration of the pure; they are the weak, the diseased, the freaks." She chuckled. "The vachine are a corruption."

"I hunted vachine," said Kell, and met Sara's gaze. "But I hunted your kind, too. Me. And Ilanna. Do not think I haven't killed true vampires. It was a long time ago, but I remember the taste like it was yesterday."

"Impossible! Vampires were extinct until the Vampire Warlords returned!"

Kell shook his head. "Oh no," he said, eyes glittering. "You are so wrong, with your little mind from little Falanor. You never did travel, did you Sara? Never saw the world and all its mysteries. Well I did. I saw enough to make any sane man crazy. And that's why I know… I know your Master, Kuradek, Kuradek the Unholy – if I kill him, if I remove his head, then I may save all those he has tainted with his evil."

Sara remained silent, staring at him. Eventually, she said, "How could you know that?"

"I do," growled Kell. "Because I have seen things you people could never comprehend. I have walked the dark magick paths to the Chaos Halls. Do you think the Vampire Warlords are the only creatures touched by evil? Sara. I have done… many, sobering things. I believe I am touched by darkness. But I am trying to be good. Trying so hard."

"Well don't! Don't fight it! Come with me, come to Kuradek! He does not want you dead, Kell, he wants you as his General! He knows your power, he knows what you and he could do together! You could overthrow the other Vampire Warlords! You could rule the world! We could be together again… father. We could walk the roads again, father."

Kell had lowered his head. Now his eyes lifted, and there were tears on his bearded cheeks.

"You would take me back?" he said, voice a husky low growl. "After all that I did? To you and your mother?"

"Yes! We could be a family again."

Kell stood, and turned his back to Sara. She stood, in her cage of rock and iron, and stepped forward, grasping the bars. "Come with me, Kell. Come to Kuradek. He waits for you!"

Kell turned back. His knuckles were white around Ilanna. "I'll go to him all right. I'll cut his puking head from his shoulders!"

"No, Kell, no! Wait!" but Kell was striding away, across the rocks, to the cell which held Jagor Mad.

Behind, in her cell, Sara sat cross-legged on the floor. She closed her eyes, and breathed deeply, and the feeling of Kuradek filled her, filled every muscle and every atom. She seemed to float, and she breathed deeply, and the world took on a surreal quality, a haze of witch-light, clouds rushing across the skies, dark ghosts walking the rocks beyond her cell like jagged, black cut-outs, holes in the raw core of the Chaos Halls.

"You did well," hissed Kuradek.

"I failed you."

"No. You gave him something to think about."

"He will come for you."

"Yes. And I will be waiting."

"He will try and kill you."

"Yes. But I am all-powerful. He will crumble. Like dust between my claws."

"Are you sure?"

Hundreds of miles away, on his throne in the Blue Palace at Jalder, Kuradek opened his dark crimson eyes and smiled. "Yes, my sweet," he said, smoke oozing from his mouth, skin writhing with corrupt religious symbols that squirmed as if fighting to be free of his dark-smoke skin. "They always do."

Kell's mood could be described as a thunderous rage as he approached Jagor Mad's cell. The three men who had called themselves the new Governors of the Black Pike Mines were sat together, eyes sullen, faces lost to despair. They were awaiting execution. The atmosphere was sombre.

Kell stopped by the bars, and gestured to the two guards who held long spears and wore short stabbing swords over kilts of steel. "Open it."

"But… Governor Myrtax said…"

"Governor Myrtax does what I tell him, laddie!" barked Kell, employing a parade ground bellow that once made many a Command Sergeant piss his pants.

"Yes, yes sir," snapped one guard, shaking as he fumbled keys and unlocked a three bar gate, swinging it wide from its slot in the mountain wall.

"Jagor Mad. Step free."

"What do you want?" said the big man, voice husky and low, his face still battered and bruised from their fight. Jagor stepped from his confinement, squinting at the bright daylight, and he stretched his huge frame. His throat was heavily bruised, huge welts showing where the rope had savagely burned him.

"I want your help," said Kell, folding his arms.

"Why would I help you?"

Kell drew Ilanna from his back, glanced at the twin black blades, and hefted her against his chest. "You help me, or I execute you now. Right here. On this fucking spot."

Jagor Mad considered this, and a finger lifted, touching the marks at his throat. "Seems like a fair choice. I'll help you. But don't be asking me to fucking sing and dance."

Kell grinned. "No, I have something far more fun than that planned." He turned to the guard. "Give Jagor your sword."

"What?"

"Are you deaf, lad, or shall I unblock your ears with my axe?"

"No need to be rude," grumbled the guard, and handed Jagor Mad the sword. Jagor took the weapon, face showing a mixture of confusion and suspicion. "What's happening here, Kell?" he murmured.

"Follow me."

"You wish to battle?"

"No, Jagor, you big dumb fool! These vampire bastards threaten the whole of Falanor! I want you alive, because you're a big hard bastard, and I'll not waste a man like you just because you were fighting for your freedom! I respect that. I respect your anger, your fire, and your fucking brutality! You were born to fight, Jagor, not be locked in a cage, not to hang from the gallows. Well, I'm giving you the chance to earn redemption."

"What do you want me to do?"

"There is a place. A hidden place. Where the last of the Blacklipper Kings reside, after their brother was killed by the vachine known as Vashell. Do you know what I'm talking about?"