Not since the day they repelled Turel's ill-advised invasion of their Clan lands had the Razielim fought with such raw fury.  They broke from their defensive circle with ragged howls, seeking first to satisfy their craving for revenge before indulging another, more basic thirst.  The claws of the Elite, hardened through centuries of evolution, carved through plate armour on contact, cleaving the air with sounds of shearing metal.  One such guard caught his first victim by the arm even as he turned to flee, and, swinging him around to face him, brought his claws down in a vicious, vertical slash, opening up the man's face and chest to the bone.  Another took the blade of a daring Sarafan directly in the gut, just to manoeuvre himself into closer quarters.  As the human stared dumbfounded at what should have constituted a mortal wound, the leering Razielim returned the favour, punching his fist through the knight's armoured torso until he felt the resistance cease.  He savoured the knight's surprised death-mask as he tugged his limb free, only thereafter turning his attention to the length of steel protruding from his own body. 

Elsewhere, Isca's first springing leap forward had carried him directly onto the platform at the base of the stake, just in time to see Gurt's head roll on the ground.  He spared the man one last mournful glance, swearing to himself that when Meridian had fallen, his body would be taken back to their Clan lands to be properly honoured.  A mocking laugh shattered his reverie.  Kalippa stood before him, face twisted in a knowing sneer.

"Not so great without your Clan Lord, are you?"

Isca scowled back, wondering how much the man could truly know of the events that had befallen the Razielim in recent months.  Was Raziel's death common knowledge amongst the Sarafan?

"Oh come now, boy, you're not going to waste my time denying it, are you?"  Kalippa graced him with an almost fatherly smile as he sauntered around the platform, his calm demeanour completely at odds with the bloody battle raging in the background.

"No protection for the precious Tithe Villages, rumblings of invasion from rival Clans: the events speak for themselves."  He turned the full force of his mocking gaze on the furious vampire. 

"He's dead, isn't he?"

This was not helping matters.  The Sarafan's words had conjured undesirable images of Raziel's execution, which were strongly interfering with Isca's train of thought.  He declined to reply, unwilling to give the man any other potentially advantageous knowledge.

"Tell me, vampire, before I kill you, how did that narcissistic leader of yours meet his end?"

Isca tensed at the insult, his claws almost denting the hilt of his sword.

The Sarafan waved his hand dismissively.  "It matters little – as you'll soon be joining him."

If Kalippa had known anything at all about the vampire who faced him, he would have ceased his provocation long ago and started running.  Unfortunately for him, he was ignorant of the youth's temperament and abilities, and so continued blithely to seal his own fate.

"It's probably the best thing for your Clan anyway - what sort of fool put a whelp like you in charge?"

Isca was finally provoked enough to answer the Sarafan's insult-ridden queries.  "The two men you just killed."

Kalippa laughed at the irony, his mirth blinding him to the fact that the vampire was edging ever closer. 

"What makes you so special?" taunted the human, "Who are you?"

Isca finally closed the distance between them, relishing his introduction.

"I'm the one who's going to murder you."

The Sarafan blanched at the sincerity in the vampire's tone.  He meant it.  The human swallowed audibly, backing away while freeing his blade from its sheath, already more than half-convinced that it would do him little good in the circumstances. He was correct.  In a movement so fast it defied logic, a claw seized the hilt of the sword, wrenched it from the man's grasp and hurled it from the platform.

Kalippa, weaponless and seriously scared by now, resorted, as he so often had in the past, to bluster.

 "If you kill me, another will rise up and take my place."

Isca waved the threat aside, following the retreating human closely as he backed around the base of the stake. 

"I'll murder him, too."

Kalippa, hope failing, decided to try a new tack.  "Surely we can come to a mutually beneficial compromise?"

The vampire seemed to consider this, his head tilted thoughtfully to one side in a gesture that would remind many of his sire in years to come.

"Swear that you will hand over these lands to the Razielim."

Kalippa nodded fervently, keen to placate the creature.  Besides, when the vampires had withdrawn, there was nothing to stop him persuading the Bishop to gather reserve forces to wipe out the remainder of this tiresome Clan.

"You shall have them."

Isca nodded, and, in a tone of mock-politeness, added:  "Thank you.  It is good to deal with such . . . civilised foes."  He stalked around to stand at Kalippa's side, shortly shaking his head and venting a theatrical sigh.

"However, your attacks on our tithe villages cannot go unpunished."

Kalippa's eyes widened as the vampire fixed him with a look of ill-concealed glee.

"Your life is forfeit."

"No!" the man searched desperately for a reason for the vampire to let him live.  "You need me for the negotiations!"

"No negotiating.  You will give us what we ask for, or you will all die."

Kalippa's blustering reached new heights.  "Spare me – I know a great deal - I could be a great asset to your cause."

Isca paused in his stalking, apparently giving the man's offer some serious consideration.  At length he nodded, as though having reached a decision.  He leaned in close to Kalippa's trembling face and spoke two words in a voice that betrayed the gratification he was drawing from the situation. 

"Beg me."

The human's face hardened slightly, his reluctance to be reduced to such embarrassing behaviour overwhelming his fear.

As the Sarafan's silence continued, Isca lost patience and swiped at him. The newly revitalised human reacted swiftly, drawing his dagger and raising it vertically to block the vampire's claw.  Steel sliced through flesh and forced a growl of pain from between unwilling lips.  Isca retaliated by slamming the back of his uninjured hand against the side of Kalippa's head, sending him crashing into the wooden stake.  Shaking his head dazedly, the Sarafan managed to focus on the approaching figure seconds before a bleeding claw pinned his throat against the rough wooden pole.

Isca spoke through clenched teeth, affording the Sarafan leader a close-up view of the elongated canines that gleamed a shocking white against the dark hue of his lips.  

"I don't want your worthless land."   

Kalippa threw his dagger aside to free both hands and send them scrabbling at the iron grip that was crushing the life from him.  When he had loosened them enough to breathe, he blurted out: "Then what do you want?"

Isca regarded him solemnly.  "I want my Captain and my Fledge Master back."

Kalippa knew then that he was done for.  This creature never had any intention of sparing his life: he had been toying with him; playing with his emotions and exploring his limitations; tormenting him.

Isca smiled in triumph as he hauled the squirming human back to his feet.  All around him, his senses told him that the fight was dying down, and that the humans were losing.   Never taking his eyes from those of the Sarafan, he took hold of the man's forearm, and, with no hesitation and very little effort, he snapped it.

Kalippa screamed, dousing the hall in silence for a split-second before the fighting began afresh. 

"That is for Harrin."

Quickly seizing the other forearm, Isca applied pressure once again and listened out for the repeated sound of bone splintering.  It was a satisfying noise.

"That is for Gurt."

Kalippa shook his head in denial, rambling incoherently about his sorrow and regret.  Apparently the vampire was appeased at this, as he allowed the babbling human to slide to the ground with his forearms dangling at unnatural angles.  Kalippa's  head shot up once again as the creature knelt before him, the lack of pity in those cruel, golden eyes assuring him that his ordeal was not yet over.

"This is for Quadros." The left ankle snapped.

"This is for my lover."  The right followed suit.  Kalippa screamed again, this time begging for an end to his suffering in the name of all that was good and true.

Isca continued as though he had not spoken, raising his inhuman gaze to Kalippa's face and drawing back a fist in preparation. 

"This is for my parents."  The curled claw slammed into the man's face with an audible pop, breaking the nose and grinding the cartilage into pulp.  Kalippa's head flopped to one side, the bloody bubbles issuing from nose and mouth the only evidence that he still lived.

Isca's lips twisted into a grimace that was somewhere between delight and disgust.

"And this - " 

He caught hold of the man by the hair and yanked him away from the stake.  He hesitated with his fangs centimetres from the Sarafan's neck, so the last sensation the human would feel would be the chill of undead breath on his throat.

" - this is just for fun."

As sharp, white canines punctured flesh, as the Sarafan's blood began to flow, the vampire reflected on the fate the man had wrought for himself: in persecuting the Razielim tithe villages he had sealed his doom at Isca's own hands - by causing him to see the leader as a figurehead, a symbol for all that the Sarafan ever represented. Although he himself was not directly responsible for the death of Isca's family, in the circumstances, he made a good substitute.

Isca remained at the scene of their victory until his Thirst was sated.

At length, with the group of Elite at his side, Isca strode from the Keep, his chest bathed in the blood of the conquered, his claws itching for the chance to spill more.  Nor was he to be disappointed.  As the night wore on, the vampires purged the keep and the surrounding buildings of their occupants until, with dawn approaching, it became clear that there was not a being left alive.  Isca smiled grimly to himself as the Razielim indulged in a vociferous victory cry.  He felt no remorse at his actions: the Sarafan had chosen their allegiance, and therefore no mercy had been accorded any of them.  Each man, woman and child was a servant of the enemy, and every one of them might as well have borne face of his parents' murderers.  His vengeance had been a long time coming, but now, with the catalytic effects of the destruction of the tithe villages, he felt the time had been ripe.

Nevertheless, as he surveyed the scene of devastation, and breathed deep of the cleansing morning wind, he could not escape the hollow feeling that resided in the pit of his stomach. He did not feel the expected sense of satisfaction at the accomplishment of a deed that had driven him for most of his young life.  He experienced no feeling of catharsis from the fulfilment of his revenge.  As the sky began to redden in the east, it finally dawned him that his own Lord had avenged his parents on the very day of their deaths, by dispatching their murderers on the battlefield.  However, the flame of revenge still burned strong in the vampire's heart - no longer for his parents, nor even for Maeve, but for Raziel.  From the ashes of Meridian was born a new purpose – for Isca to avenge his sire's wrongful death at the hands of his father and his treacherous brothers – in particular, the Lieutenant who had seen fit to torture him, too.

Isca clenched his fist until fresh blood flowed as he made a vow.

Turel would suffer for his crimes.

*

Author's Note:

Erm . . . I think this may be the end.  I'm certainly going to have to stop for a while. 

There's plenty more that could be written – there's a whole fifty years to play with until he catches up with Turel, but to all intents and purposes, the rest of Isca's adventures have already been told, and continue from here in 'Return to Nosgoth'. 

I've never written a story without a plan before – hope it worked!  Review Responses will be up soon.  Oh, and those stinking bridesmaids dresses are done now, so if anyone wants to see what's been causing me so many headaches over the last few months, they're on my website.