AN UPSTART INHERITANCE: III - A CHANCE
Jules squeezed the last drops of rain from his long, black hair and shuddered. The journey here had been a nightmare. Half of them were far too young to be out in such dire weather as reigned tonight. The road had offered no shelter though, and Axel, the eldest and their undisputed leader, had pressed on through the massive burial grounds and the canyons of the west, towards the keep of Melchiah. He seemed deaf to the howling and shrieking of his followers, who, half-mad with pain and hunger, loudly voiced their desperation, berating each other, their Master, Kain, and the world at large.
And now here they were, huddled in a small room, cradling their long-drained cups of blood, avoiding each other's eyes. Jules had a little pride to swallow himself -- apart from Axel, he was the eldest, and he hadn't borne the ordeal with the stoic endurance he ought to have shown.
Shut up! he had shouted. Shut up, all of you! Your Master is dead, show some decorum!
Ironic, really, to shout that at the top of one's voice, only to add to the cacophony and chaos. Jules glanced over at Axel, who was staring into the fire. Their host returned, broad-shouldered, regal looking. Melchiah had met them at the gate himself, and led them here, to this darkened chamber. He had left them when little struggles broke out over the bottled blood his servants brought in. Now he looked over their muted, bedraggled assembly, clearly displeased with the sight that met his eyes.
"So, are you ready now to tell me why you come and knock on my door in the early hours of the morn, starving and half-drowned?"
Axel met Jules' eyes, briefly. The others all stared at their cups or the floor, so Jules took the word.
"Forgive us, Lord Melchiah. We do not mean to make light of your hospitality. We come here because we have nowhere else to go -- we have been cast out by our clan." One or two ashen faces looked up. Jules knew only a couple of his new companions by name; Adoile, the Lord's youngest child and his servant girl, and the fledgling with the long white hair and the earring they called Kainsken. Hengest and Horsa, the twins, were here. They were made on the same night, and it was said they shared the same soul. Jules turned back to Melchiah, who was waiting for an explanation.
"We want to take vengeance on Kain."
Melchiah's expression remained unchanged. If he was surprised, he did not show it. "Vengeance?" he repeated.
"Our Lord was murdered," a deep voice spoke up. One of the guardsmen, Jules recognised him. He was Harald's own boy. "He committed no crime, but was executed like any common traitor. His murderer must pay for that, no matter who he is."
Melchiah looked around the room with a grave expression. "Vengeance?" he asked again. "Are all you Razelim mad? You cannot take vengeance on Lord Kain, you can't even harm him. These weapons you carry..." He waved a dismissing hand. "You might as well bring sticks for all the good they will do you. What do you mean, vengeance? You will all get killed!"
All looked up now. Eleven pairs of eyes turned to meet his with perfect determination and will. He looked around for a moment, then turned to Axel.
"You will get them all killed," he said, accusingly.
"We have chosen to be here, Lord Melchiah," Kainsken spoke up, a mild indignation in his voice. "Against the advice of our superiors, against even our own better judgment, I suppose." He shrugged.
Jules decided to help him out. "Our elders have decided, in their wisdom, to reinforce their dedication to Kain, and submit to his judgment -- but we cannot let this injustice stand. Raziel served his Lord faithfully for over a thousand years, and was cast away like a piece of garbage! What reason, what right did Kain have to do that? Our Lord, your brother, burns. He was your ally, Lord, he aided you when you had need. Repay that debt now and help us!"
Melchiah stared at Jules, then turned to Axel, who met his eye with an unwavering determination. He shook his head, then cast his eyes down. When he spoke, his voice sounded fragile. "Yes, Raziel's death was unjust." He sighed. Jules exchanged a glance with Axel, who nodded back to Melchiah. "Yes, he was my brother, and my ally, and his death hurts like an iron stake through my heart." Melchiah turned to Jules, and continued, darkly, "I loved my brother. But Kain is my Maker and my Master. He granted me my existence, and even as he turns on me and destroys everything I hold dear, I will not raise my hand against him." His voice was ragged now, dragged out over a sea of grief. His eyes swept the room, incensed, and fixed finally on Axel. "You may stay here until the evening, then you must leave."
Axel nodded, and without another word, Melchiah left them for the day.
---
The inarticulate screams voiced his agony more eloquently than words could have ever done. Melchiah called his name.
Raziel!
For some reason Melchiah could not determine where Raziel was. What was happening to his noble brother? Raziel! Why could Raziel not hear him?
"Raziel!"
The sound of his own voice echoed mockingly through the catacombs beneath his keep. He was awake, the keep was still, it was daytime. The unbearable screaming had gone.
No, not gone, Melchiah realised. I just can't hear it anymore. Raziel's torment was very real, this had been no dream, but an echo from the underworld. Raziel burned in the abyss, deaf and blind to all but his own pain. The Eldest was gone, and all Melchiah would know him by now was this tortured howling. He buried his face in his hands.
Oh, Raziel... His brother, his closest ally for a thousand years, and his only friend. He was dead. Gone. All that was left of him was pain. Despair welled up from deep inside Melchiah, and tears burned in his eyes. Tears for the injustice of it, the insufferable randomness. Why did it have to be him? Why Raziel, beautiful, proud Raziel? A dark thought turned on Kain, and demanded, teeth clenched, why?
"You can hear him too, can't you?"
Melchiah froze. Where did the voice come from? He could not see anyone in the darkness of the crypt.
"You can hear it echo from the underworld," another voice claimed.
"That was no dream, Melchiah," the first added.
"Who are you?" Melchiah demanded, a hard edge to his voice. "Spirits? Be gone!"
"We're no spirits." As they slipped out of the shadows, their echoing voices seemed to shrink to suit their statures.
"We're of the ones you took in," the other said.
"The Razelim."
He remembered seeing them, sitting close together, exchanging meaningful glances as he talked to their muddied little band. One of them sat down now on the end of his smooth, stone bed, the other hovering over his shoulder. Brothers, clearly, perhaps more than that. One was sharp-faced, with half-long, spiked black hair, the other had a rounder, almost feminine face, and his hair was so short Melchiah couldn't tell whether it was fair or turned white. Both had been young when they died. Both were beautiful. Most of Raziel's kind were, in one way or another.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, gruffly.
"You think we could sleep?" the fair one asked.
"We hear him too," the dark one whispered. "We hear him scream in the darkness of his private hell. He calls to us as he calls to you, Melchiah."
"He calls for vengeance -- "
" -- for justice -- "
" -- for release."
They were silent for a moment, though Melchiah could feel a hidden whispering in the air, like movement guessed at from behind a curtain. He could not hear what they discussed, but their eyes were accusing.
"You can hear him," the dark one hissed.
"Of course," he answered. He could hear it. He would have to hear it now whenever he closed his eyes to rest, an impotent witness to Raziel's slow demise. It gripped his heart in the icy touch of fear. How would he bear it?
"Raziel burns," the fair one said, with feeling. "Your brother! How can you sit there and do nothing?"
"If you truly loved him, you would act," the other added.
"Aid us -- "
" -- Axel thinks you know a way!"
Melchiah shook his head wearily. Little demons, these. It was no coincidence they were here. "I know of no way to destroy Kain," he said. "I don't even think it is possible."
There was another silence; the curtain drawn between thought and sound waved with secret messages. Melchiah looked at them. They seemed so young, so fragile. But looks were deceiving, he knew. They both took after their master in their own way; they certainly seemed to share his fierce determination. Once Raziel set his mind on something, he would have it, no matter who stood in his way. Melchiah sighed. He knew what they were after, though how they knew to look for it here was a mystery. No matter. If this was how it would be...
"But I can give you a chance, which is more than you have now."
Jules squeezed the last drops of rain from his long, black hair and shuddered. The journey here had been a nightmare. Half of them were far too young to be out in such dire weather as reigned tonight. The road had offered no shelter though, and Axel, the eldest and their undisputed leader, had pressed on through the massive burial grounds and the canyons of the west, towards the keep of Melchiah. He seemed deaf to the howling and shrieking of his followers, who, half-mad with pain and hunger, loudly voiced their desperation, berating each other, their Master, Kain, and the world at large.
And now here they were, huddled in a small room, cradling their long-drained cups of blood, avoiding each other's eyes. Jules had a little pride to swallow himself -- apart from Axel, he was the eldest, and he hadn't borne the ordeal with the stoic endurance he ought to have shown.
Shut up! he had shouted. Shut up, all of you! Your Master is dead, show some decorum!
Ironic, really, to shout that at the top of one's voice, only to add to the cacophony and chaos. Jules glanced over at Axel, who was staring into the fire. Their host returned, broad-shouldered, regal looking. Melchiah had met them at the gate himself, and led them here, to this darkened chamber. He had left them when little struggles broke out over the bottled blood his servants brought in. Now he looked over their muted, bedraggled assembly, clearly displeased with the sight that met his eyes.
"So, are you ready now to tell me why you come and knock on my door in the early hours of the morn, starving and half-drowned?"
Axel met Jules' eyes, briefly. The others all stared at their cups or the floor, so Jules took the word.
"Forgive us, Lord Melchiah. We do not mean to make light of your hospitality. We come here because we have nowhere else to go -- we have been cast out by our clan." One or two ashen faces looked up. Jules knew only a couple of his new companions by name; Adoile, the Lord's youngest child and his servant girl, and the fledgling with the long white hair and the earring they called Kainsken. Hengest and Horsa, the twins, were here. They were made on the same night, and it was said they shared the same soul. Jules turned back to Melchiah, who was waiting for an explanation.
"We want to take vengeance on Kain."
Melchiah's expression remained unchanged. If he was surprised, he did not show it. "Vengeance?" he repeated.
"Our Lord was murdered," a deep voice spoke up. One of the guardsmen, Jules recognised him. He was Harald's own boy. "He committed no crime, but was executed like any common traitor. His murderer must pay for that, no matter who he is."
Melchiah looked around the room with a grave expression. "Vengeance?" he asked again. "Are all you Razelim mad? You cannot take vengeance on Lord Kain, you can't even harm him. These weapons you carry..." He waved a dismissing hand. "You might as well bring sticks for all the good they will do you. What do you mean, vengeance? You will all get killed!"
All looked up now. Eleven pairs of eyes turned to meet his with perfect determination and will. He looked around for a moment, then turned to Axel.
"You will get them all killed," he said, accusingly.
"We have chosen to be here, Lord Melchiah," Kainsken spoke up, a mild indignation in his voice. "Against the advice of our superiors, against even our own better judgment, I suppose." He shrugged.
Jules decided to help him out. "Our elders have decided, in their wisdom, to reinforce their dedication to Kain, and submit to his judgment -- but we cannot let this injustice stand. Raziel served his Lord faithfully for over a thousand years, and was cast away like a piece of garbage! What reason, what right did Kain have to do that? Our Lord, your brother, burns. He was your ally, Lord, he aided you when you had need. Repay that debt now and help us!"
Melchiah stared at Jules, then turned to Axel, who met his eye with an unwavering determination. He shook his head, then cast his eyes down. When he spoke, his voice sounded fragile. "Yes, Raziel's death was unjust." He sighed. Jules exchanged a glance with Axel, who nodded back to Melchiah. "Yes, he was my brother, and my ally, and his death hurts like an iron stake through my heart." Melchiah turned to Jules, and continued, darkly, "I loved my brother. But Kain is my Maker and my Master. He granted me my existence, and even as he turns on me and destroys everything I hold dear, I will not raise my hand against him." His voice was ragged now, dragged out over a sea of grief. His eyes swept the room, incensed, and fixed finally on Axel. "You may stay here until the evening, then you must leave."
Axel nodded, and without another word, Melchiah left them for the day.
The inarticulate screams voiced his agony more eloquently than words could have ever done. Melchiah called his name.
Raziel!
For some reason Melchiah could not determine where Raziel was. What was happening to his noble brother? Raziel! Why could Raziel not hear him?
"Raziel!"
The sound of his own voice echoed mockingly through the catacombs beneath his keep. He was awake, the keep was still, it was daytime. The unbearable screaming had gone.
No, not gone, Melchiah realised. I just can't hear it anymore. Raziel's torment was very real, this had been no dream, but an echo from the underworld. Raziel burned in the abyss, deaf and blind to all but his own pain. The Eldest was gone, and all Melchiah would know him by now was this tortured howling. He buried his face in his hands.
Oh, Raziel... His brother, his closest ally for a thousand years, and his only friend. He was dead. Gone. All that was left of him was pain. Despair welled up from deep inside Melchiah, and tears burned in his eyes. Tears for the injustice of it, the insufferable randomness. Why did it have to be him? Why Raziel, beautiful, proud Raziel? A dark thought turned on Kain, and demanded, teeth clenched, why?
"You can hear him too, can't you?"
Melchiah froze. Where did the voice come from? He could not see anyone in the darkness of the crypt.
"You can hear it echo from the underworld," another voice claimed.
"That was no dream, Melchiah," the first added.
"Who are you?" Melchiah demanded, a hard edge to his voice. "Spirits? Be gone!"
"We're no spirits." As they slipped out of the shadows, their echoing voices seemed to shrink to suit their statures.
"We're of the ones you took in," the other said.
"The Razelim."
He remembered seeing them, sitting close together, exchanging meaningful glances as he talked to their muddied little band. One of them sat down now on the end of his smooth, stone bed, the other hovering over his shoulder. Brothers, clearly, perhaps more than that. One was sharp-faced, with half-long, spiked black hair, the other had a rounder, almost feminine face, and his hair was so short Melchiah couldn't tell whether it was fair or turned white. Both had been young when they died. Both were beautiful. Most of Raziel's kind were, in one way or another.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, gruffly.
"You think we could sleep?" the fair one asked.
"We hear him too," the dark one whispered. "We hear him scream in the darkness of his private hell. He calls to us as he calls to you, Melchiah."
"He calls for vengeance -- "
" -- for justice -- "
" -- for release."
They were silent for a moment, though Melchiah could feel a hidden whispering in the air, like movement guessed at from behind a curtain. He could not hear what they discussed, but their eyes were accusing.
"You can hear him," the dark one hissed.
"Of course," he answered. He could hear it. He would have to hear it now whenever he closed his eyes to rest, an impotent witness to Raziel's slow demise. It gripped his heart in the icy touch of fear. How would he bear it?
"Raziel burns," the fair one said, with feeling. "Your brother! How can you sit there and do nothing?"
"If you truly loved him, you would act," the other added.
"Aid us -- "
" -- Axel thinks you know a way!"
Melchiah shook his head wearily. Little demons, these. It was no coincidence they were here. "I know of no way to destroy Kain," he said. "I don't even think it is possible."
There was another silence; the curtain drawn between thought and sound waved with secret messages. Melchiah looked at them. They seemed so young, so fragile. But looks were deceiving, he knew. They both took after their master in their own way; they certainly seemed to share his fierce determination. Once Raziel set his mind on something, he would have it, no matter who stood in his way. Melchiah sighed. He knew what they were after, though how they knew to look for it here was a mystery. No matter. If this was how it would be...
"But I can give you a chance, which is more than you have now."