Hunter and Prey (Continuation of "On the Hunt" and "Being Hunted") By Jesse Smith http://slicer69.tripod.com/ The journey to Neclobar was supposed to last three days, more or less. More, I figured, since the so called horse I had been given was more like an oversized pony. The poor beast had enough trouble with the supplies and packs without my added weight. However, the alternative was walking quickly for three days. No thank you. I learnt a few things about my companions. The lady's name was Celia. A pretty name and a pretty face. She was, she told me, visiting folks in this area and was looking forward to returning to Neclobar. Her husband, she said she was married, didn't like her staying away so long. So, even in this time of need, she must hurry home. She had brought two body guards with her. Lax, though well equipped, men who were politely quiet and poor riders. This was, I quickly noted, no poor peasant woman. She, or her husband, obviously had money to be able to afford horses and guardsmen. Another observation I made during our first day on the road was that each of my travelling companions were crazy. All went well the first day out. But that night, perhaps they were lunatics, things changed. Pleasant, polite conversation turned rowdy. The guardsmen made crass jokes. Rather than correct their manners, the lady joined right in. They laughed and drank into the night. Sometimes chasing each other about the camp fire on all fours. I tried to distance myself from the goings on, retiring to my bed roll early. Both of those first two nights I considered disappearing with their pony. Something made me hold back. It was almost a relief, I must admit, when they died. We were ambushed early the third morning out. Bandits came running out of the woods on our right side. Dirty and yelling, they set upon us before I could do more than shout. The guards were clumsy and still delicate from the previous night's drinking. I'd like to say that I performed some great act of heroism. But let's be realistic. Five bandits against one, small hunter are poor odds. So, I left the odds to the bandits and spurred my little horse forward. I glanced back soon after to see, though the cloud of dust, the second guard fall from his horse, stabbed through the chest. Another bandit was dragging Celia off toward the trees. Two of the attackers had mounted and were chasing me. Whether they thought I carried wealth or simply didn't want loose ends, I didn't know. Surely they didn't want my ever lagging horse. But....Perhaps they did. I slowed, jumped from the horse, and ran straight for the trees. Two hundred feet into the woods, I glanced back. So sign and no sound, other than my pounding heart. Good. Of course, I was merely out of immediate danger. I no longer had any food, blankets or other supplies. Merely a few daggers and a water skin. Well, my fate was better than that of my travelling companions. That would have to do. I set about travelling in parallel to the road, a few hundred feet from the tree line. I didn't see any danger, nor did I encounter any animals. Which was too bad. I was becoming hungry. It was, with some surprise that I suddenly came to an end to the trees. Stepping out to look, I found that I had come upon a cross roads. The road I was following continued north and south. While a second one lead off to the west. Standing in the intersection were four men, dressed in royal sentry uniform. This, I thought, would be good news, until two of them approached me. Suddenly, I wasn't so sure. A blood covered man, coming out of the woods, is rarely met with welcoming smiles from officials. This might require some fast talking and bribery on my part. Briefly, I thought of running, then thought better of it. I was tired, dry and had no real reason to run. The worse they would demand, surely, was a toll for passing the cross roads? I took a few steps out of the trees and waved. Better, I thought, to seem friendly. "Good morrow, friend," the larger of the two men called to me, when they were a good twenty feet out. "Good morrow," I replied, nodding my head. The sentry that had spoken nodded in return. "Your name sir, and your business, please." I took a moment to note that both men had their hands on their sword hilts, despite the mild words. "Mark," I replied, "Sulan. Simply travelling." They seemed to take that in, along with my blood stained clothes, my lack of horse, or pack or supplies. The fact that I'd walked out from the trees and not come along the road. "I ran into some bandits," I supplied, "This morning, on the road. They took my horse." Both of the men facing me nodded. Perhaps this had become a common story, perhaps they just wanted an easy answer. "Your trade, Mr. Sulan?" the sentry asked. I tried to draw my small frame up to its full height, "I am a hunter," I replied. A pause. "A bounty hunter?" the second man finally spoke. My turn to pause. The truth was often met with disbelief, but bounty hunters were often greeted with anger. "I hunt vampires," I offered, matter of factly. The two sentries exchanged a quick look. "Vampires?" the leader asked, carefully. I nodded, "Vampires." I held my breath. Again, the exchanged look. Silently I wished they'd stop doing that. "My lord has need of people with your...experience," the leader of the two said. "He has requested that hunters, sages and those knowledgeable of vampires be brought to him. I know not what for, but I have been asked to invite you to his castle, on his behalf." Now this was an unexpected twist. A lord, a duke or some such, was hiring vampire killers. I, being a vampire hunter was in a rather good position to make a few coins here, if all went well. Yet something pulled at the back of my mind. Some sense of danger. "May I know the reason for this invitation?" I asked. No sense in walking into a castle full of vampires, correct? "I am told," the first man said slowly, "that my lord's adviser has warned of vampire sightings in this region. My lord wishes to take precautions." "I would be honoured to assist your lord in this, to the best of my ability," I stated. Had I been more aware, I would have realized the problem with the guard's story. Rarely does one have "vampire sightings". Rather, anyone who sees a vampire usually becomes vampire food long before they would be able to report seeing said vampire. However, I was more intent on getting a roof over my head and food in my growling stomach. I got both. One of the sentries was sent along with me, along the western road. Why, I'm not sure. Perhaps to insure that I was who I said I was. Perhaps to let others know that I was an ally. It surely wasn't to prevent me from getting lost. The road was wide and well kept and short. It was only a few miles around a long, curved bend until we came to the castle. A small castle, I suppose, but impressive none the less. The grey, stone walls rose up over the land like mountains reaching for the sky. Red cloaked watchmen stood guard at the walls, cross-bows in hand. I was interviewed briefly, given plenty to eat and told that the king's head adviser would see me in the morning. By this time it was sun set, and I was shown to my chambers. After such a long day, it was an effort to climb the five flights of stairs to even reach the room. My guide bid me good night and left me at my door. I took a long, relaxing breath and opened the solid oak door. It was dark inside the room. I took a step forward, toward the window, thinking my eyes would adjust to the- I fell. I fell through what must have been a hole in the floor, wide enough so that my small body easily fit through. Deep enough so that I kept falling...Falling. As I awoke, it was as if I was mentally swimming through a thick fog. My mind was sluggish and everything hurt. Slowly, I became aware that my eyes were closed and I tried to open them. Even the dim light around me hurt at first and I closed them tight again. After a few slow breaths, I opened them, slowly. My first thought was that I wished I hadn't. My body was propped up in a sitting position along a wall, my hands manacled to the stone on either side of me. Immediately, I took in that other figures were also propped against the walls to the left and right of me. Still forms, that may or may not be alive. Bottles of some kind sat next to each of the bodies. Torches burned softly at the four corners of the room, casting ghostly shadows all around. Something hurt. I looked down. Attached to my left arm, via a tube or rope or some such, was a bottle. In my arm was a needle. My mind was slowly, painfully, trying to put this all together, when movement caught my eye. At the far end of the room, a shadow moved. Walking along the left wall, it came, slowly, silently. The figure was tall, thin and graceful. Every so often, it would stop, bend to examine a bottle, then continue it's trek along the wall; toward me. It was, it seemed, checking the bottles. The bottles and the tubes that went into each body's arm...And then it hit me. Blood, our blood, my blood, was being drained into these bottles. I let out an involuntary groan before catching myself. It was quiet, but the figure whipped about immediately. Pale skin showed under a dark hood as the being stared into the gloom. Eyes, pale, yellowed vampire eyes swept left, then right across the wall where I lay. Satisfied that there was no threat, the creature turned back to examining the bottles. I turned my head, slowly, to look around again. About ten bodies were placed along each wall. Thirty of us, perhaps, in all. Each chained firmly in place, each helplessly losing blood. Each food for the terrible creature. I wondered for a moment how many of us were vampire hunters, either truly or pretenders for the money. I wondered if the others were still awake? Alive? The vampire moved closer, the faint swish of its robes brushing against the floor. Fake unconsciousness. Yes, play dead. That was the last thing I remember. I awoke again, some unknown amount of time later. I hurt all over, I was dizzy. I tried to turn my head, to look around. I felt sick. The light was still dim. The torches still burned. There were no windows in our cell. No way for light to come in; no way for the stench to escape. It was, to put it mildly, quite overwhelming. The door opened again. The tall, thin figure came into the room, glanced around and walked over the where I lay, propped against the cold stone. I closed my eyes and tried not to move. The stink of death was all over the room and deepest next to the vampire. I heard two clicks as my manacles fell away. A sharp pain flooded through my arm as the needle was ripped from my flesh. Then cold fingers grabbed my arms and bodily lifted me. I knew we were moving, but I could not see to where. I was tossed into a chair. A large, wooden one by the feel. Something slapped me across the face, hard. I opened my eyes and tried to look up, fighting the feeling of vertigo. I was in another small, windowless room. Grey walls, covered with dirt and darkness provided a harsh background. A tall, wooden table stood before me. A plate of food and a mug sat next to me. The vampire loomed over me, looking at me with some curiosity. His harsh, pale features reflected the dim torch light with menace. "You're still alive," he said. The voice was soft and deep. I would have thought it sounded caring under different circumstances. "Drink," It was a command. I picked up the mug before me and bought it, shaking, to my lips. Water. When I had drank it all, I looked up to see the yellow eyes staring back into mine. "Good. Now eat." I did. What else could I do? My body demanded food and water. Lots of water and the vampire, hateful creature that it was, continued to place both before me. While I ate, the vampire went over to a cupboard along the right wall. He opened it, looked over the dozens of bottles inside and took one out. He removed a cork and tipped the bottle to his lips. After several long seconds, he dropped the bottle, noisily, onto the table. Red liquid shone on his lips. "Thin," he stated, as if judging a cheap wine. "Have you been eating poorly of late, hunter?" My blood. That was my blood! The vile bastard was drinking my life blood while feeding me; keeping me alive. Keeping each of us alive. Realization hit me like a thrown javelin. We were, each of the prisoners locked in that cell, no more than cattle for the vampire. Helpless milking cows being drained dry. "Damn you," I swore, glaring up at him. The expression on the pale face didn't even flicker. "Mr. Sulan, I was damned a long time ago." With that, he picked me roughly up and carried me back into the cell. I was chained against the wall, a needle stuck into my right arm and then the door slammed shut behind the vampire's back. I was alone, except for the seemingly sleeping bodies around the room. It was time, I thought, to do something. Blood was already dripping from the hole in my arm. It wouldn't be long before I became sleepy again. A quick glance about proved that I didn't have much with which to work. I had no weapons, no tools, nothing but my clothes, my belt and my boots. And, unless I was mistaken, my magic. Always the wild card in my hunting; magic had gotten me into -- and out of -- more dangerous places than I could count. Looking down at the needle embedded in my arm, I focused. Deep inside me, something stirred. The needle shook for a moment, then popped out of my arm and clattered to the floor. That was a relief. With a little more effort, the manacles around my wrists opened and I was, for the moment free. Well, actually, looking around, I was still stuck in this room. A quick inspection proved that the solid, wood door was locked. Again, magic came to my rescue and the door quickly opened. Standing on the other side of the door was the vampire. Suddenly my magical escape didn't seem so easy. He didn't say anything. He just smiled. It was the way a cat might smile at a mouse. I was then flung, brutally, against the wall. I hit with a crack and would have fallen to the floor, had the vampire not have been fast enough to catch me and pin me to the stone. I was certain some of my ribs had given way with the impact. His breath was foul and carried a faintly metallic smell. "Hello," he whispered. It occurred to me that he must be holding me up, for my face to be so close to his. Certainly, I wasn't as tall as my attacker. "You meant to come and save these people, didn't you?" he whispered, his face coming closer to mine. "Meant to come and destroy me." There was a soft rush of air that might have been laughter. "I hate you," the emotion welled up inside me and demanded a voice. The vampire's smile disappeared and for a moment, the dead yellow eyes fixed directly on mine. "Not yet," he said, softly, slowly, "but you will curse me for the rest of your long life." Long? Then, as his lips came to rest against my neck I understood all too well. My arms, pinned at the shoulders, struck out, bashing down on the creature's back. My feet kicked out, weak and useless. The light came. Bright and intense. Too pure and brilliant to look upon in the dark, the light poured from my body. Before I screwed my eyes shut, I saw the predator fall backward. Flames licked across his clothes and his face was the colour of ash. I felt my body fall to the ground. Dancing lights played across the backs of my eye lids. I screamed. He screamed and our voices pounded inside my head. A moment later, it was all gone. Cautiously, I opened my eyes. I was kneeling on the floor, tired. So tired. The vampire was a good ten feet or more away; Apparently flung there by the light. Though obviously not unhurt, he was already climbing to his feet. A few of his teeth littered the floor between us and his face and hands were blackened. More than hunger this time, now there was hate -- or was it fear -- written on his face. "How did you do that?" he demanded, looking me over. "Come closer, foul creature, and I shall show you." I was bluffing, of course. I didn't know what had happened, nor how. I stood and tried to look defiant. The vampire obviously suspected as much, for he took a step closer. Then another. I tried to appear casual, as I reached to my left for the torch that was burning in that corner. To cover my need for a weapon, any weapon, I tried to keep up a running monolog. "My power is light, creature. My power is flame!" my hand found the torch and gave it a yank. The vampire sprang forward, reaching for my throat. I ducked and swung with my left hand, ripping the torch from the wall. The wood struck the vampire across the side of his head and he stumbled to my right; smacking into the wall. I didn't pause to see if he would get up. I already knew. I brought the torch up and smashed it down on his back. Crack! Again upon his head. Crack! His robe and hair caught fire this time and a scream escaped him as he struggled back to his feet. He ripped his burning robe from his body, throwing it to the ground and stepping backward. I was quickly running out of tricks. I moved the torch before me in small circles, like a fencing foil. Even breathing hurt and I wondered how long I could hold my own. Consciencely, I pushed the thought from my mind. Think! The smell of burning skin filled my nose. The vampire spoke. "I was told a hunter would be the end of me," he said slowly. Almost sadly. "It was prophesied so many years ago." This was an unexpected turn in events. I waited, on edge, for the attack. "The soothsayer fortold of a vampire hunter coming to destroy me. That was long ago, little one. You would have been a child then. I had thought to put an end to the prophesy this way," he made a slight hand gesture at the room, "Lure you in. Kill you all. Never have to go out into the light again." He chuckled ironically to himself, "It seems I was my own undoing." He held up his hands. For a second, I almost lowered the torch. I peered through the blaze, trying to get a better feel for the situation. The vampire's hands were spread to the sides, palms open. My head swam. I waited. The vampire fell on both knees. "Make it quick," he said. Slowly, I stepped forward. I raised the torch a little. He merely knelt before me, waiting for the killing blow. What a cursed life he must lead, I thought, to be willing to bow out so easily. I took another step closer, brought the torch back and swung- I didn't see his hand move, but I did feel his claws dig into my leg and pull. I fell sideways, one arm pinned under me, the other waving the torch around as I failed to gain balance. I hit the floor with a thud and kicked out. My boot found flesh. I rolled and came up on one knee. The vampire, blood running down his face, lunged at me. He screamed as I thrust the burning torch into his face. A searing sound filled the air and I ran. There was a stairway on the far side of the room. Dropping the torch, I sprinted up the stairs, three at a time. I reached the top, to be met with a door. I flung it open and tripped, falling into the hallway on the other side. It was much brighter here. I was in what appeared to be part of the castle keep. Clean walls, portraits on the wall and torches every twenty feet. I heard boots on the stone and looked down the passage. A young man came striding toward me. Purpose radiated from him. His short, black hair lent a firmness to his appearance. "What is going on here?" he demanded. I must look a fright, I thought. "He's..." I paused to catch my breath, "He's trying to kill..." The guardman's sword was already out of its sheath. He started for the doorway. Then, abruptly, stopped. He lowered his sword and saluted with his free hand. "Counsellor," he barked. I looked over my shoulder, my heart falling. There stood the vampire, the counsellor, broken, burned and yet still regal. He nodded once. "Arrest this man, officer," the vampire hissed. "He is here by charged with treason and assaulting a lord." The guard was fast. The adrenaline already pumping through my veins made me faster. I grabbed at the lowered sword and rolled, twisting my body around, forcing the guard to release his grip. I came up on my knees and leaped at the vampire. The sword entered his stomach and a look of utter surprise came across his face. A good, solid kick pushed his body off of the sword and he fell backward down the stairs. I followed the half rolling, half falling figure, swinging the sword in wild arcs. I struck again, cutting an arm. Again, catching a foot. I heard yelling and the stamping of feet from behind me. The guard was obviously not crazy enough to follow me weaponless. Re-enforcements were coming. We reached the bottom of the stairs, the vampire lying on his back, staring up at me. I drove the sword straight down, slicing through the neck. Viciously, I kicked the head free and watched the dark blood gush forth. Then I collapsed on the steps and waited. It took quite some time to explain the situation to the guards who arrived bare seconds later. I had, after all, just killed one of their nobels and such things are not taken lightly. But the room full of half dead prisoners and the cupboard full of blood won me a fair hearing before the king. A hearing that pronounced me clear of any charges and awarded me a fair amount of gold in return for my trial. It was enough with which to retire; which I did. Some things just aren't worth the money.