Chapter Four - Awakening
Franz was happily chopping wood when Gizela found him, he had already cleaned out the pigs and stripped Wilhelm of his rather fine boots and sturdy clothes – waste not want not after all….. The clouds had cleared and the sun was bold and warming on the skin.
She sat on a nearby tree stump and watched him for a while, enjoying the sanity of such normality and the play of fine young muscles. Klara had found her some warmer clothes, taking her gown to be mended with a raised eyebrow and sympathetic eyes.
The comforting rhythm of the axe on wood continued but too soon he paused and glanced at her, smiling nervously.
"Can I help M'lady?"
"I am no Lady," Her laughter was impulsive but quickly faded to a contemplative smile, "well not yet anyway."
Franz simply looked at her, then down at the axe, unsure of what to say.
"Are we safe here?" She looked around at the farmstead, the peaceful scene, the pigs happily rooting in their sty.
He shrugged, "As safe as anyone I reckon. Lord Viktor, he sees to that." He stretched muscles that had began to complain now he had paused and reached for a flagon of ale he had placed within easy reach, taking a swig he continued.
"We serve him and he protects us, can't ask anything more from a Lord can you?"
Gizela nodded, "Are you not worried about, I mean concerned that he is, well – you do know what he is?"
Franz considered her question whilst he took another drink.
"Don't much care truth be told, like I said, he acts like a proper lord and that's good enough for all of us here." He wiped his mouth clean and put down the flagon, eyes locking with hers for the first time.
"Are you bothered then Miss? If so I think you had best decide quickly what you want."
She in turn considered this and as she did so, with a shrug Franz began to swing his axe again.
Xx
"Sir," her voice was shuddering with nervousness as Claudiu surfaced from his slumber and his eyes flickered open.
"Hello Ioana," he endeavoured to pitch his voice in a reassuring tone, despite the dryness in his throat.
The named servant stood near his bed. His eyes focussed on her, slim and reasonably pretty under the grime. Dark haired and diminutive, her large eyes were constantly flickering apprehensively towards the other form in the room, crouched in the thicker shadows by the door.
With a slight groan, he sat up, slowly allowing his torso to emerge from the warmth of the fur strewn bed. Her right hand fluttered at her side and she stepped a little closer to the bed.
"Ah dear girl do be still, there is no need to worry, I am sure Varsius is not hungry."
The lone ghoul ran his small piercing eyes over the girl who shrank away further, only just manging to stifle a scream as it padded forward on its large bare feet, gnarled skin quiet on the wood of the floor.
"Isn't that right Varsius?"
A low growl was the only response to which Claudiu shook his head and waved a disapproving finger.
"You know better than that."
Varsius hissed in response and lowered his pointed head in submission, but his eyes still tracked the girl.
A deep sigh, "Leave us Ioana."
She fled from the room, darting past the unmoving ghoul with an involuntary squeal of fright.
"Please don't terrify the help – it's really not conducive to a harmonious household."
The head swung back from its observation of the doorway through which the girl had ran and he moved closer, straightening his posture as much as he could, the mottled skin rippling around the taught muscles and showing the bones beneath. A line of thickly matted dark hair rand down his spine and his right thigh had a pair of sharpened polished bones piercing the skin.
"Enjoyable." His voice was low and measured, the tone almost melodious.
"Perhaps, but I doubt I will get much work out of her for the rest of the day."
The Ghoul shrugged and grimaced in a parody of a smile.
"I assume you have a reason to be here other than scaring young girls?"
"Viktor."
"Ah the Young Master, where is he?"
"Farm."
"The Brinerhof farm? Hmm makes sense I suppose – what is he doing there?"
A grunt of acknowledgment, "brought live meat." Another unsettling grin and a sweep of a long sinuous tongue around thin lips.
The hunchback looked shocked "Not Miss Dumitrescu!?"
"Male."
"Ah that's alright then."
xx
Klara hummed a tune as she rocked the child enjoying it snuggling against her, squirming slightly in her arms. She placed a soft kiss on the girls head and glanced at the bubbling pot on the heavy iron stove, content with the stews progress. The light was beginning to fade and Franz was soon be back, hungry but smiling as he caught the scent of the food she had prepared.
She carefully stood up and quietly stepped to the lone window in the room, gazing out across the fields towards the woods beyond. Once, months ago she would have felt nothing but fear looking at the growing darkness and imagined glimpsed movement under the heavy branches.
There were monsters in the woods, others lurked in the mountains and some stalked the villages and towns, mercenaries and fanatics looking for an excuse to murder and rape, ravage and torment.
A pair of crouched shapes stalked into view, lean predatory forms moving with lethal purpose towards the boundary of the farm. Klara smiled and waved at them and the larger of the two must have caught the movement as he paused and looked back at the woman before he and his companion loped off across the fields.
Xx
Wilhelm felt awful, his head throbbed with pain and for some reason the world was the wrong way up. There were strange shapes in the shadows, red glowing eyes and hissing noises echoing unpleasantly in his head. He groaned and tried to bring the half dark room into focus, attempting to dispel the obvious hallucinations.
They did not seem to want to leave.
He tried to move his arms but they were tightly constrained behind him and now he could feel the bite of ropes when he struggled. Sweat began to drip onto the floor and trickle down his bare chest towards his throat. Then through the mental fog of pain and confusion he heard footsteps behind him. A futile attempt to twist towards the sound only gave him pain.
"What were you going to do to me?" The voice was that of a woman, stripped of compassion and laced with contempt.
A babble of words came out; a plea for aid followed by a scrambled apology of sorts when the only reaction was the silence of the woman and scrabbling claws in the shadows. He began to pray to the gods. To Sigmar, Ulric, Shallya – any who might listen.
"Why would the gods help such as you?"
A sharp pain in his back and blood flowed. It was not a deep wound, not dangerous, but it hurt.
At the doorway to the barn the vampire paused, the scent of blood rich and heady to his newly awakened senses. He watched Gizela withdraw the knife and inspect the blade, observing the drop of blood as it fell to the straw below.
She continued, her voice flat now.
"Do Ulric or Sigmar really reward cowards who attack women? Do you believe Shallya would grant her divine mercy to such men?"
The woman moved round to stand before him and now he remembered her even viewing her upside down
"No. The gods will not help you. We both know that."
"Please…help me. Let me go."
"No. I won't help you. No-one will help you. Do you feel that – the helplessness, the fear coursing through your body. Do you?"
"Please….."
"Good."
Viktor smiled as she turned to him and ignoring the still babbling captive, made her final decision.
"I am ready, I don't want to be weak or afraid anymore."
Xx
He was no longer wearing his armour and so when her hand trailed across his body it was only cloth and cool hard flesh that she felt. In return his own hand brushed through her freshly washed hair, slowly and with relish threading his fingers through its length before they began to kiss.
Behind them the captive struggled and sobbed but to no avail; this was not the first time Franz had bound a man in this place and he was a careful man.
They had shed their clothes, uncaring of the watchers in the shadows as Viktor kissed and nuzzled at her neck, enjoying her involuntary movements and small cries of passion. He laughed when she suddenly, sharply pulled his own head back and breathed in his ear, "Do it!"
He kissed her hard on the lips and then gently titled her head to one side, then he waited a long tantalising moment, holding her tight and still.
The pain was sudden and real as he bit deep and began to drain her blood, but with the pain there was a wealth of pleasure and she savoured every moment even as she grew weaker, tears falling from her eyes and her back arching against his constraining arms.
Darkness began to eat relentlessly at her vision as her blood began to run out, her limbs losing all strength as she collapsed against her lover. He held her upright and with a snarl tore his mouth aware from her throat, forcing himself to cease feeding before she was completely drained.
Eyes blazing red and her energy and passion surging trough him, he ripped open his wrist and made her drink. At first she feebly coughed and spluttered but he held her firmly until she was drinking deep, her hands now gripping his with growing strength, her nails digging into his flesh until more blood oozed sluggishly around the wounds.
Finally he pulled away, both of them with eyes alight and burning crimson.
"Welcome to your new life my dear."
Xx
Sigmarhaven
The temple of Sigmar did not waste money on grand rooms for those who served the man-god. The room the four sat in was not large and unadorned except for a pair of heavy silver embossed hammers that hung on the wall, within reach of the bearded priest.
Even the table at which they sat was plain and simple, hard, scared and stained wood that would not be out of place in a woodsman's cottage anywhere in the deep Drakwald. Between them were well crafted but solid goblets, gleaming with silver inlay, incongruous in the beauty of their craftsmanship. The priest had poured himself and Captain Lappzig generous amounts of the thick black ale, taking the refusal of the other two with an unsurprised grunt of disapproval.
"Sigmar took drinking seriously, we follow in his path." He intoned as he took a deep draught and enjoyed it noisily. Lapzig emulated him.
Their two guests watched them having exchanged an amused glance. Both were dark, of hair and garment and both had their hair cut short in a similar style. The man was clean shaven whilst she was the taller and obviously slightly older of the pair.
He was heavily built, a match for either of the two warriors that he faced across the table and by the door, again within easy reach by his long arms was a sword. In contrast she was unarmed and unadorned save for a long healed scar across her scalp.
"Morr is by contrast a god who respects a fine wine." Her tone was without inflection.
Silence ruled for a long minute until the two tankards were hammered down onto the table.
"What do you want Helena?"
Her smile was as brief and professional as someone who dealt with mourners - the emotional, the angry and the lost.
"Morr sent us to you for the dead must be laid to rest in his arms, guided to his garden. Those that resist such a blessing must be guided back onto the path, even if they resist."
"The Vampires." Lapzig snarled.
"The vampires. For wherever they roam necromancers and other such fools who disturb the dead follow them. This cannot be allowed to continue, Kurt."
"They will be destroyed wherever we find them." The priests tone brooked no rebuke.
Helena nodded, a sympathetic expression suddenly arriving.
"…..and in that we all do the gods work. I would ask that you allow us to assist you in this holy task."
"What makes you think we need help?"
The man's voice was cooler than his companion, deep and measured. "I am the blade in the hand of my God, you are the hammer of yours – we should work together."
"I have experience with vampires, I have put several to rest and my blade is consecrated not only by the god but it also bears the rune of a dwarf rune master to aid it in its task."
Both of the other two men sat up straighter and Lapzig rasped, "Show me!"
The knight glanced at Helena, who nodded and he stood to retrieve his sword and brought the black leather scabbard into view, it was unembellished save for a beautifully depicted golden raven.
He drew the sword slowly until its full length was revealed to the ravenous gaze of the two devotees of Sigmar.
"This is the Black Rose."
It was a simple blade but crafted with the skill of the dwarves, every inch a reflection of decades, perhaps centuries of practice and hard earned skill. There were no jewels or ornamentation save for a golden rune that blazed bright on the metal, overwhelming the light of the candles in the room.
"It is a bane to the unhallowed dead and we are both at your disposal."
Xx
"That went well." Helena commented as the two of them headed back to their own domain, "and we didn't even have to drink any of that swill."
The knight smiled and nodded, "it can be a trial dealing with the uncivilised, hmm perhaps we should have brought a bottle."
A pair of burly warriors stepped out of their way as they walked, giving them a wide berth which they two barely noticed, taking it as part of their due as guardians of the dead.
The entrance to the temple was without a door, it had two fine stone pillars on either side of the dark unlit void, one white the other ebony, a reflection of the duel nature of the god.
Once within the cool darkness they moved easily through the main passage until they reached the great alter to Morr, the bier in front of the stature of the god was currently empty and both spent a few moments paying their respects before they moved to the private quarters.
At the threshold of her own room Helena turned to the knight, "I have a fine Tilean white that should not be broached alone."
He paused in turn and smiled again, "it would be my pleasure."
Xx
"A holy runesword…. I could do much in His name with such a blade."
Kurt shook his head, "Did you not hear the words that were spoken! – it is in the service of another god."
The captain dropped his head, abashed as the priest continued.
"Use this knight as you would any other weapon in the righteous fight. If however he should fall in his holy work then it's obvious that Morr and Sigmar have seen a more worthy recipient of that blade."
Xx