Anthology - Realms of Valor

Confused, Rhynn queried, "Don't vampires like the smell?"

"Gods, Rider, are you blind?" he cried in Elvish. "I haven't tasted human blood since we met! Starve yourself for a month, then have someone lock you in a bakery. Perhaps you'll have some faint idea of what it's like! I haven't had so much as a rat in almost a week." The anger faded, and he made a halfhearted joke. "Pogg runs far too clean an inn."

"You do not feed," said the priest in perfect Elvish. Both Rhynn and Jander turned to stare at him. Few humans in Mistledale spoke Elvish. "You let us care for the wounded and even seem distressed by what is happening. You are not like the others. Why?"

Jander answered with a smile, also speaking in Elvish. "Of course a morninglord would know my tongue. Now you answer me, why have you not attacked us, priest?"

The young man's green eyes widened. At last he said, "I did not think I was so obvious. My name is Frajen. I have been a bard longer than I have been a priest, and the odds were hardly in my favor. I was waiting, watching you. Tell me, what keeps you from doing as your friends do?"

"My name is Jander Sunstar of Evermeet. I-"

A sharp hiss interrupted him. "Don't say things that I can't understand, eh 0," Erith snapped.

"Cassiar commands my movements, not my tongue. I'll speak my native language if I wish. Unless you want to force me to stop."

Erith knew the better part of valor and quieted. Jander returned his attention to Frajen, his voice gentling. "I followed your god, priest, and as long as I can remember the beauty of the morning, I will not willingly embrace evil. If you and Rhynn will trust me, we may be able to save lives here tonight."

Frajen nodded without hesitation. Slowly, Rhynn did likewise. Jander let himself relax. "Give me time to think. Frajen, be careful-keep your symbol well hidden and do not use any magic. Our kind can sense it. And tell Pogg to clean up the blood. It's becoming hard to resist."

The priest nodded and went to the innkeeper. Jander watched as Pogg brought in a bucket of water and three towels. He and Trevys wordlessly began to wipe at the puddles of red soaking into the floorboards while Frajen and Rhynn moved among the wounded. They recruited the rest of the patrons, more to keep the frightened people occupied than for the feeble assistance they could offer.

Jander glared at Marys and Erith, aware that they were still watching him. At first they were intent on watching the gold elf's every move, but the women were young and inexperienced, so he paid them little mind. Jander returned his attention to Frajen, and his eyes widened at what the priest was doing.

Frajen had gone to kneel beside Pogg and Trevys, ostensibly to help them clean the floor. To a casual observer, he did indeed seem to be doing that, holding onto the wooden pail with one hand and wiping at the bloody floor with a wet rag held in the other. Jander saw, however, that the morninglord's eyes were half closed and his lips moved slightly.

He was consecrating the water.

Why can I not sense the magic? Jander wondered fleetingly, then realized that creating holy water was nothing so arcane as magic, merely a holy blessing. Very clever, Frajen! he admitted silently.

The elf's gaze flickered to Erith and Marys. Erith was looking about for new amusement, and Marys, still in wolf form, lay curled up near the dead mage, though her eyes remained open and watchful. Soon, the two would notice what the priest was up to. Jander needed a distraction.

The odds would never be better-Jander had a trained soldier and a cleric on his side, and all three vampires nearby were newly undead. Cassiar would be dangerous, and deadly. Jander knew that he was not up to that confrontation, not in his present voracious and weakened state. But he had to try.

"No more," he said softly to himself. "No more. Aluise is the last."

He strode to the wall lined with wooden pegs and tore down the cloaks. The movement drew the attention of mortal and vampire alike. He felt their eyes on him, their tension, as they wondered what the strange gold-skinned vampire was going to do next. The cloak pegs were about nine inches long-just long enough for Jander's purposes. Grimly the elf splintered off several of them, glancing back over his shoulder to gauge the reactions of the vampiresses.

Marys had risen to all fours, and the hair on her neck was standing up. She began to growl softly. Erith's eyes narrowed. "Beware, elf," she began menacingly.

Jander glanced surreptitiously at Frajen. Imperceptibly, the priest inclined his blond head. The elven vampire glanced over at Rhynn, and he saw her expression harden into a mask of cold comprehension.

In one swift movement, Jander tossed a stake apiece to Rhynn and Frajen, keeping a third for himself. Erith rose as swiftly, the severed head tumbling from her lap and landing with a dull thump on the floor. Jander was no longer a fellow predator. He had crossed the line, and now, he was prey.

"Do it, Trevys!" Frajen cried.

The farm boy got to his feet and hurled the bucketful of bloody, blessed water directly into Erith's face. The sacred liquid acted like acid upon the vampiress's profane flesh. Her face melted, dripping like candle wax from a flame. Erith's wail was keen and sharp, and she clawed at her horribly disfigured, smoking face. She fell to the floor, no longer a thing of horrible beauty, merely a thing of horror.

Frajen cried Lathander's name as he lunged at Erith. He stabbed the writhing undead again and again in the chest. Her hands clutched and scratched at him, scoring his cheek, but the priest didn't falter. At last, he pressed the deadly point of wood deep into the vampiress's heart.

Marys, meanwhile, had leaped in deadly silence at Rhynn. Not even Jander had fully appreciated how swiftly the beast could move, and as he watched her attack, he knew he would be unable to reach the Rider in time to shield her. Desperately he hurled the wooden dagger toward Marys's gray shape. The sharpened peg bit into the vampiress's hindquarters.

Marys arched in mid-leap, yelping from the sting of the wooden weapon, and landed heavily atop the Rider. Rhynn went down under the wolf's weight. Hot breath fanned her face, but before Marys could secure a deadly grip on the elfmaid's throat Jander was there. He twined his gold fingers into the thick ruff about the wolf's neck and yanked Marys's head back. Rhynn rallied, thrusting upward with the sharpened peg, plunging the wood deep into the wolf-thing's broad chest.

The vampiress's howl of outrage suddenly changed to a choked whimper. Blood flowed around the wood. Rhynn kept her hold, shoving ever deeper, grimacing only a little as Marys's blood dripped into her eye, stinging horribly. The Rider blinked it away. At last Marys ceased to struggle, and her weight pressed heavily down upon the slender elf woman.

Jander heaved the corpse aside. "Are you all right?" the vampire demanded.

Taking a shaky breath, Rhynn nodded and let Jander help her to her feet. Frajen stumbled over to them, covered with blood and breathing heavily.

"Jander," gasped the morninglord, "Pogg says there's a way out the back, through the cellar. May we go?"

"Of course. But you'd best hurry." Jander glanced up at the ceiling, toward the room where Cassiar was having his sport. "I'll get the third. See them to safety. The boy should go first. Be careful, Frajen."

Frajen smiled ever so slightly. "The blessing of Lathander be upon you, Jander Sunstar," he said softly, then turned to help Pogg and young Trevys with the trap door in the kitchen.

"I must go too," said Rhynn brusquely. She was every inch the professional soldier now, and her face was hard and implacable. "I'm a Rider, and the villagers need me."

Jander smiled, but his silver eyes were sorrowful. "Of course, Rhynn. Hurry."