Chapter 22

Kandler stood and peered into the darkness. Off in the direction in which Burch had pointed, the justicar saw four torches bouncing closer to them with every second. “Horses’ hooves,” he said. “I heard those in my dream. And those aren’t torches, are they?”

“Swords.”

Kandler shook his head. The knights either didn’t realize that anyone could see them coming from miles around, or they didn’t care. “It looks like they are that dumb after all,” he said. He patted Burch on the back. “Good thing you uncapped that torch. They might have run around all night waving those damned things around.”

“Moths to a flame,” said Burch.

“Who are the moths? Us or them?”

“The vampires maybe.”

Kandler scowled at that. His friend had a way of voicing his worst fears at the worst moments.

Burch held the torch high and waved it at the riders. They waved back in response and turned toward the light.

“Know what happens to those moths?” Burch said.

Kandler smiled despite himself. The shifter might have a dark view of the world, but that never dampened his bravado. “They get burned,” Kandler said.

“Hail and well met!” Deothen shouted as the four knights rode into the meager camp.

Kandler signaled Burch to cap the everbright lantern. As the shifter complied, Kandler stepped forward and addressed the knights. “I thought we’d seen the last of you.”

“We would not abandon good people in their hour of need,” Deothen said.

“Not as long as they’re still useful to you.” Kandler said. He found it hard to bite back his bitter feelings about the knights’ pursuit of Esprл.

“That our goals match is a happy coincidence.” Deothen smiled, either unaware of Kandler’s pique or willing to ignore it. Kandler saw that this was a pattern with the knights. He often couldn’t read their intent, but he supposed it didn’t matter much. Actions spoke louder than words.

Kandler watched the knights dismount. Deothen looked hale and hearty, as if the fight and the ride through the night air had lightened his spirit. Sallah frowned at Kandler and kept a careful eye on both he and Burch. Levritt’s eyes were even wider than normal, and they kept peering into the darkness.

“How are you?” Kandler asked Brendis.

The young knight moved his arm without defect. “In body, I am fine, but my heart is heavy.”

“I am sorry about Gweir. He was a good soldier.”

Kandler looked at the others and had to shield his eyes from the lights of their blades. “Could you put those things out?” he said. “All sorts of creatures come out around here at night. I’d rather we didn’t invite them into camp.”

Levritt and Brendis sheathed their swords, extinguishing the flames as they did. Sallah continued to carry hers about like a torch. Deothen stuck his point first in the ground in the center of the camp and let it burn.

“Let them come,” the senior knight said. “The power of the Silver Flame will keep us safe.”

From somewhere nearby, unseen in the darkness Burch snorted. “It didn’t save Gweir.”

Kandler shot the shifter a look that he doubted his friend could see. Exposed out here in the Mournland at night, this was no time to start a fight.

Deothen nodded. “The warforged caught us unawares. It won’t happen again.”

“Excellent!” a low, raspy voice said from behind the knights. “I’d hate to think this was a surprise.”

Sallah screamed and nearly dropped her sword. Kandler stepped toward her and drew his own blade. The time for hiding in the dark was over.

Before Brendis and Levritt could draw their swords, two dark-cloaked figures stepped from the darkness, their hands and faces luminous like moons in the light of the two still-blazing swords. They grabbed Brendis and Levritt and held them fast. The knights struggled but the vampires’ arms had the strength of steel bands, and they froze when they felt fangs against their necks.

“Hold still, little knightlings,” the same voice said, “or my friends will tear out your throats.”

Kandler recognized the voice. It belonged to the creature he’d last seen perched atop his roof like a monstrous bird of prey. As he watched, the figure melted into the light, as if it was the worst part of the night become solid, Kandler’s worst fears become real.

Deothen went for his sword, which still stabbed into the ground in the center of the camp near Kandler and Sallah. He didn’t get three feet before the leader called for him to halt.

“That’s far enough, great paladin,” the creature said. “I saw what you did to my fellows in that crater-town. If you touch that sword, we will kill your young charges before you can draw it from the earth.”

Deothen froze, his arm already reaching for his sword’s hilt. He drew his hand back and held it in the air. “As you say,” the senior knight said through bloodless lips.

Kandler stepped forward and stood near the sword.

“That goes for you, too, Justicar,” the leader said. “We can keep this civilized, can’t we?” The creature permitted himself a bloodless smile, baring his long, ivory-colored fangs. “Forgive my rudeness,” he said. “My name is Tan Du.”

“I’ll carve that on the marker over your grave,” Kandler said as he reached out and rested his hand on the pommel of Deothen’s sword. Brendis and Levritt cried out in fear as the beasts holding them tested their teeth on the skin of the knights’ necks.

Kandler barked a short, mirthless laugh. “Go ahead,” he said, praying that the vampire would not call his bluff. It was a risky gambit, but he wanted everyone’s attention on him right now. “Kill them,” he said coldly. “They’re nothing to me.”

The two other vampires drew back their fangs and looked at Tan Du for guidance. The beast bared all his teeth at Kandler in a vicious smile. “Of course,” he said, “but we have you by a different set of hairs.”

Tan Du raised his right hand high in the air. A voice rang out of the pitch-black night.

“Kandler!” It was Esprл. The voice was faint, distant, but there was no mistaking it. “I’m all right!”

The justicar left Deothen’s sword and stepped toward the vampire, his heart in his throat. “Bring her to me,” he said, struggling to keep the desperation from his voice. “Now.”

It was Tan Du’s turn to laugh. It was the worst sound Kandler had ever heard. No death rattle seemed as dark and final. “I thought I told you to leave us alone,” the vampire said.

“I haven’t done a thing to you,” Kandler said, trying to keep the shaking from his voice. “Yet.”

“Let me explain in terms even you could understand,” Tan Du said. “Go back to your little crater-town. Now. And never come out.”

“Or what?” Kandler hated to ask the question-he knew what the answer would be-but he needed more time.

“Or we’ll kill your little girl.”

Kandler reached back and pulled Deothen’s sword from the ground. The knights all held their breath to see what the vampires would do. The two holding Brendis and Levritt squeezed their charges harder, and the youngest knight let out an involuntarily whimper.

“I’m going to kill you either way,” Kandler said, steeling his heart to the fate of the knights. They might very well die here, but he was willing to risk that to get Esprл back. He knew that if she truly did bear the Mark of Death, then Deothen would be willing to do the same thing. Despite that, he never looked to the senior knight for approval. Instead, he held up the knight’s sword before him.

“Do you have any idea what’s at stake here?” Tan Du hissed as he fell back before the silvery flames.

Kandler strode toward the vampire, keeping the sword between them. “The only thing about to be on a stake is your heart.”

Snarling, Tan Du locked his gaze into Kandler’s eyes. The justicar felt the vampire trying to bash his way into his mind. When the psion had tried this stunt, it had felt like a worm trying to burrow into Kandler’s skull. This was more like a battering ram trying to smash a gate.

The justicar felt nauseous for a moment, as if he were reeling, but he continued toward the vampire. As he walked, he drew upon all the fury he felt over Esprл’s kidnapping to shove the rough probing aside. “That might work on little girls,” he growled at the vampire, “but you’re playing with grown-ups now.”

Tan Du backed down before Kandler’s advance, his attention focused entirely on the justicar. He didn’t notice Deothen charge up behind him.

“Master!” the vampire holding Levritt cried out.

Kandler cursed. He’d been taking a calculated risk, but Deothen hadn’t been part of the plan. Until now, he thought he’d had the situation under control, but in an instant it spun out of his grasp.

Tan Du turned, but he was too late. Deothen rammed into him, wrapped his arms around the creature’s middle, and slammed him to the ground.

The vampire holding Brendis sank his fangs into the young man’s neck. Brendis screamed, his knees gave out, and he would have fallen if the vampire had not held him in a tight embrace.

Kandler started toward Brendis, but before he could reach the knight, a bolt appeared out of the darkness and pierced the feeding vampire’s heart through its back. The creature fell over on top of Brendis, dead before it hit the ground. The young knight screamed in terror and scrambled to pull himself out from under the vampire’s body.

The vampire holding Levritt tossed the knight before him to one side. Kandler dashed forward and caught the boy in his arms, dropping the swords in his hands as the creature dashed over to help his fallen compatriot. Before Kandler could even see if Levritt was all right, Sallah sprinted past them, aiming a terrible blow at the neck of the vampire about to tear Brendis apart.

Deothen bore all his weight into Tan Du. “You are all dead!” the vampire hissed as the pair hit the ground. “I’ll feast on your hearts!”

Kandler was sure the vampire was right. Even if they succeeded, what might happen to Esprл? Inwardly, he cursed the Silver Flame and all who followed it. Convinced Levritt was fine, he let the young knight slip to his knees, and he scrambled for his saddlebags.

His hands were shaking, and he had trouble untying the knot. As it finally gave, he heard Deothen chant a prayer to the Silver Flame. Kandler turned to look. The elder knight slapped his hands over the vampire’s eyes. Light stabbed forth from between the knight’s fingers, and Tan Du howled in pain.

The vampire shrugged Deothen off with his superhuman strength. “What have you done?” Tan Du said, his face glowing like the sun. “I can’t see!”

As Kandler dug around in his saddlebag, he watched Sallah thrust her sword into the side of the vampire attacking Brendis. The monster screeched in pain as the burning blade pierced its flesh. It stood, wrenching the blade it was impaled upon from the lady knight’s grasp.

“You’ll pay for that, you bitch!” the vampire snarled. He started toward the unarmed Sallah, her sword still protruding from the side of his chest. Before he got two steps, another bolt emerged from the darkness and impaled the vampire’s heart.

Kandler’s hands closed on a set of wooden stakes in his saddlebags. He knew his blade was useless against vampires, so he had packed these as well. “Catch!” Kandler shouted as he tossed one of the stakes to Deothen. The old knight snatched the length of wood out of the air and stalked after Tan Du.

Deothen drew the stake over his head with both hands and stabbed down at the vampire leader’s heart. The wooden point blunted on the thick armor plate and twisted wide of its mark, plunging into the vampire’s side instead.

Tan Du bellowed in rage and pain. He lashed out in blind anger and smashed the old knight in the chest, sending him sprawling across the half-dead grass.

Kandler hefted the other stake in his right hand and sprinted off, circling to Tan Du’s right. As he did, the vampire turned, always keeping Kandler to his front.

“I can hear you stomping around like a bull, coward,” Tan Du said. He pulled his hands from his face. The light poured from his eyes as if he was lit from within.

“I haven’t lived for over a hundred years by being foolish,” the vampire cackled. “Besides, I don’t want to kill you until you find your daughter’s body torn into bite-sized pieces.”

The very thought spurred Kandler to desperate action. He knew he only had once chance here, and he had to take it no matter what might happen to him. He dove at Tan Du in a last-ditch effort, the stake held before him.

The vampire seemed to fade, the darkness bleeding into him, and he melted into mist. Kandler hit the ground hard, wrenching his shoulder. The justicar howled, the stake still in his hands. “Come hack!” he said to the air. He got up and spun around, swinging the stake back and forth wildly. “Come back and fight! Give my daughter back!”

The mist hung in the air over Kandler for a moment, then faded into the blackness. The justicar went back on his knees and screamed. He pounded his fists against the ground until Deothen came over and patted him on the back.

Kandler stood and glared at the knight, but he bit back the venom he wanted to spit at him. Instead, he turned and strode over to where the other knights had set the bodies of the downed vampires next to one another.

Esprл was somewhere out there in the darkness, Kandler knew, but she might as well have been a thousand miles away. He’d never find her, not until the dawn. But right here in front of him there was something he could do.

Kandler picked up his own sword from where it lay and decapitated the corpses with two clean, savage cuts. Then he hacked the rest of them to pieces.

While Kandler chopped away at the bodies, Burch stole up beside him. The shifter put a hand on Kandler’s sword arm, and the justicar stopped, his chest heaving from his efforts.

“Couldn’t find her, boss,” Burch said. “Too dark, and even I can’t track mist.”

Kandler nodded at his old friend as he put an arm around him and drew him into a sidelong embrace. He hoped Burch wouldn’t realize he was shaking not with rage but fear.

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