No Want, No Hunger, No Shame
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Chapter 28
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The sky outside was overcast, a deep grey that sent the world into a depressing darkness despite it being only half past noon. The group of four had been traveling for a good few hours now, Wolfwood sitting upon the bench up front. He was driving the two horses pulling the carriage like a slave driver. Milly had joined him with her umbrella several times, finding some excuse to escape from the heavy company of the half-blooded vampire and the vampire hunter, who sat solemnly side-by-side, each staring out opposite windows inside the carriage.
The atmosphere was heavy, something Milly fretted even she couldn't lift.
Vash had announced it would take no more than a day to reach Purebrood, home of Knives, his brother and currently the largest obstacle in their way. However, they hadn't counted on the roads to be so washed out from the rainy spring weather, and all four had had to pile out from the carriage more than once to help the two horses pull a wheel from a deep, muddy pothole.
And the farther they got from London's cobblestone streets, the farther they got from civilization and houses, so the roads were reduced to dirt and gravel, unused and overgrown.
After all, not many preferred to travel with such dangers lurking in the darkness.
Meryl leaned heavily on her seat, the side of her head pressed to the glass of the window where the curtains inside were half-drawn. Silence had reigned a long time ago, when Milly had once again climbed out front to join Wolfwood as company. She had left Vash and herself skulking in the dimness of the carriage.
They were on a particularly rough stretch of road, riddled with rocks and small, deep pools filled with murky water, masking the hole until it was too late and a wheel sunk into the ground. The whole carriage seemed to bounce up and down, side to side, creaking and rattling. She expected it to fall apart at any moment, and found herself wondering where Wolfwood had gotten it. It was anything but luxury. Somewhere along the way, the seats had become very hard and uncomfortable, and
Meryl was switching her position every few minutes. But she wasn't just uncomfortable because of her surroundings.
She would nervous. It was a small, unpleasant tickle in the pit of her stomach, slowly working its way up to grasp her insides like a clawed hand, gripping firmly. Refusing to let go. And then it squeezed, causing her the most unease she had felt in a long while. It was drawn out, something she found she couldn't voice. She had to keep it to herself, and that only made her feel worse.
Shifting again, she crossed her arms over her chest, violet-grey eyes dark and stormy as they reflected the turbulence of the sky outside.
Impatiently, she watched as the county hills rolled by, revealing patches of deciduous trees, a dark green, and old cottage houses with rickety fences surrounding them. Scattered herds of matted and muddy sheep seemed to wander aimlessly within their confines, trapped in a deserted land. Meryl felt a shiver run up her spine, and she had to avert her eyes from the sight. The land around her was dying, hopelessly pleading for something to save it but not receiving anything close to a reply in return.
Unless we help, she reminded herself. It should start with us, and once we find the cure we can make a difference…
After all, who wanted to live in a lonely cottage in the midst of a field where no one could hear their cries for help when the vampires finally came?
Swallowing somewhat thickly, Meryl released a deep breath through her nose, suddenly feeling quite ill. Slowly, she settled herself deep into the cushioned bench, eyes fixed on the seat opposite her.
But it wasn't enough.
She lifted a pale hand to pull the drapes closed on the window, shielding her eyes from the deadened view of the world around her.
For a moment, she let herself drift into the darkness, closing her eyes slightly and ignoring the world around her. Ignoring the bumps that jostled her in her place, ignoring the cold air within the carriage, ignoring the muffled sounds of Milly and Wolfwood speaking up ahead, ignoring the steady presence of Vash beside her, silent and strong.
She couldn't.
With a barely audible sigh, she cracked open her eyes and let them drift over to the tall blonde man. She figured he could have very well been dead if not for the fact that his eyes were open, staring out the window on his side. She could just barely see the dim light from outside touching the tips of his eyelashes. His face was in shadows, his blonde hair messed up and falling every which way, lips pulled firm in a straight line. Chin strong and jaw set tight.
Meryl admired him for a moment before noticing something else.
Set firmly upon his right knee, the one closest to her, rested his hand, pale skin shining brightly in the darkness. One finger, his index, tapped away at a steady beat and rhythm, silent yet deafening in the heavy air within the carriage. The only sign betraying his anxiety: a finger tapping impatiently upon his knee.
She watched this action a moment, face turned forward but gazing at him from the corner of her eyes. He blinked several times, swallowed twice, straightened his back once, and that finger just kept on tapping. And once again, Meryl was struck by the picture of humanity before her, looking anything but a steadfast vampire.
He resembled a young man trying to mask his trembling unease.
Then, with careful precision, she straightened her own back, took a deep breath, and slowly slid her left hand—trembling slightly—over to cover his. Immediately, the tapping halted, and they were left with a moment where no one did anything. They froze. The touch was light, but she could feel an unfamiliar jolt with the contact, and was startled to find his skin was warm. The oddest thing… But she kept firm, licking her lips in the barest of nervous actions, and kept her face forward even as Vash seemed shocked and turned his own to stare at her.
She could feel his light green eyes trained on her, searching for something, but kept her emotions hidden. No, no, she wouldn't back down now with an apology.
Reassuringly, she let her cool fingers grasp his in a warm squeeze.
Her eyes were focused forward, but she felt when Vash seemed to relax in his seat, letting his shoulders fall and shifting his hand under hers and entwining his fingers gently with her own. And they sat like that, engulfed in silence, holding hands and drawing strength and warmth from each other, even as it began to rain outside.
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Several hours later, after numerous stops to pull the carriage from sunken potholes, they came upon the smallest of towns as the forest of shrubs and bushes thinned into rolling fields. Fog hung thick and heavy in the air, roving across the fields like some great foreboding force. So dense it got that the four companions could hardly see past the small gathering of houses and shops into the surrounding farmland. White sheep roamed aimlessly in within the fenced land, grazing as the town seemed to ignore them.
It wasn't a welcoming sight, but the light of day was beginning to wane and the mists were slowly progressing into the area, gathering to form a white cloud hovering off the dank earth. Wolfwood knew if they were to continue on they'd either run across a hostile group of blood-suckers or stray from the corroding roads.
With Milly by his side, the priest turned the horses from the soggy road and into the cluster of small buildings.
"We'll be stayin' here the night," he told Milly, leaning over to speak in hushed tones. Almost as if afraid of wakening something that had best be left asleep.
The tall woman's blue eyes seemed darker without light to brighten them. She stared at him. "I suppose the horses will need some time to rest, right Mr. Priest?" she replied, eyes wandering the narrow streets, the only sound the horses' hooves upon the cracked and broken stones beneath them. There wasn't a soul in sight.
"I'm not worried about the horses…" he muttered to himself, an involuntary shiver running up his spine. Trust Milly to worry about the horses… he thought, inwardly amused.
Milly frowned. "I wonder where everyone is? By the looks of this place it could be abandoned!"
Wolfwood's dark eyes scanned the streets, feeble tendrils of fog curling around the horses' legs. "Inside, I guess. Dusk isn't a time to be outside and by the looks of things these people have found that out."
She looked at him, troubled. "Vampires?"
"I wouldn't doubt it," was the answer, doing nothing to ease Milly's nerves. They had become wound tight somewhere along the way, her easy demeanor letting up as the day had stretched on.
They continued through the narrow streets until Milly spotted the sign of an inn hanging above its door. It squeaked, swinging in a nonexistent breeze. Wolfwood halted the carriage outside the front, pulling the reins back. The horses neighed slightly in protest, clopping around noisily for a moment as if threatened or alarmed. He had to climb down from his perch up front in order to calm them, running a hand slowly down their necks and noses.
Vash and Meryl exited the carriage and together with Milly, decided to enter the inn while Wolfwood stayed behind with the two nervous horses and their carriage.
Wolfwood glanced up at the sign hanging above the entranceway to the inn, worn and faded with age. The Prancing Pony. It seemed harmless enough.
He watched in silence as the three entered the inn, letting out a stream of warm air and golden light as well as loud noise.
Vash was in the lead as they entered the inn, Milly and Meryl close behind. He knew for a fact that Meryl would much have preferred to continue on their way towards Purebrood, but he knew there was only less than a half-day's journey left ahead of them. Wolfwood, he knew, agreed with him. It was much too dangerous to be traveling at night.
He was relieved they didn't attract too much attention as they wound through the rowdy pub towards the front desk. Men and women alike were prancing about like fools in tune to a fiddle somewhere off in a corner, spilling liquor on themselves and each other. Only a few dark stares found them, for the others were too drunk to care about a few strangers in town.
It was warm inside, the air filled with cigarette smoke. The feel was welcoming to the coolness of the air outside.
The three found the innkeeper without much difficultly, and it was Meryl who took the lead and folded her hands across the desk, waiting service.
The innkeeper, a fat old man with a crooked nose and thin wisps of white hair, turned to the three with a look of suspicion.
"What d'ye want?" he attempted a sort of glower at the three.
Meryl, getting straight to business, answered swiftly. "Two rooms, four beds. For one night."
He cocked an eyebrow at the small woman, and then sneered. "We don't give out rooms to strangers no more, go look somewhere else."
Vash butted in then, standing beside Meryl and towering over the innkeeper. "Please sir, all we need is two rooms for one night. We'll be gone in the morning," he begged, taking the innocent approach, trying to look harmless.
Meryl just barely concealed a roll of her eyes.
The innkeeper didn't seem convinced. "What's your business in town, eh?" he demanded, leaning forward to eye the three.
The petite woman opened her mouth to reply when she was cut off abruptly by Vash. "We're heading north to visit my wife's family with her sister and my brother," was the swift reply, and Meryl just barely contained choked gasp. She just managed to wipe her face clear of an incredulous expression before the innkeeper's eyes settled firmly on her.
"She your wife?" he prodded, sneering.
Meryl opened her mouth to deny the inquiry, but once again was interrupted.
"Yes, sir. We married just last week, and we're heading to see her family. Her mother was too sick to come to the wedding, you see—" Vash's words ended abruptly as the small woman beside him planted a well aimed elbow into his side. He just managed to keep a look of pain from reaching his face.
Meryl cleared her face into a cool smile for the sake of the innkeeper, unaware of Milly watching the entire scene with interest.
"Now that you have our life story, sir, we'd like two rooms for the night," Meryl griped, eyes narrowing. The innkeeper held her gaze, glaring something fierce. She scowled, and the old man scowled right back. No doubt the two could have gone on forever if Vash hadn't stepped in again.
Nudging the fiery woman aside slightly, he smiled unguardedly at the man. "Sorry, sir, she's a bit tired from the ride. Sitting still for hours seems to put her in a bit of bad mood, if you know what I'm saying," he said, attempting to make amends with the man.
Nodding slightly, the old innkeeper cast a sly glance at Vash. "Aye, but nothing a bit of quality time won't cure, eh?" he grinned, revealing a row of yellow, crooked teeth.
Milly noticed that Meryl looked particularly horrified by this remark, if not embarrassed. But she didn't say anything, perhaps noticing Vash was well on his way to getting them two rooms.
Vash laughed loudly, "Right! I'm afraid we haven't spent much time together today." He didn't miss the death glare emanating from Meryl and directed at him, however.
"Traveling be like that, isn't it? Tell me, where'd ye come from?"
The blonde seemed slightly stumped by that question, but regained himself quickly. "Ah, Dover, actually. Right by the coast. We bought a house not far from the ocean, but haven't had to time to get used to the place yet!" he answered smartly, letting the innkeeper fall into his tale of lies. It wouldn't hurt any not to tell the truth, anyway.
Meryl, however, had to turn away as the meaningless conversation between the two men continued, crossing her arms and fixing Milly with a raised eyebrow. The taller woman merely smiled, secretly, as if she knew something Meryl did not. That didn't improve the petite woman's mood.
"I've been there once, a few years back. Nice place it is," the innkeeper recalled. "But here's an awful long way from Dover, if I do say! Where ye headed, then? Not too far, I hope?"
This time Vash was ready with an answer. "Cambridge. It shouldn't take more than a half a day or so to get there by carriage," he replied. Now if only he could get this pesky innkeeper to rent them two rooms!
The innkeeper was shaking his head, though, which caught Vash's attention.
"Carriage did ye say?" the old man queried.
"Yeah, with horses," the half-blood replied, attempting to seem as friendly as possible. Maybe he could even get a discount…
"Nay! Ye won't be able to take a carriage anywhere up north. The whole road system's been flooded over with the spring rains. They're nothing but mud and holes. You won't make it five minutes from town before you're stuck! It's amazing you even made it this far." The innkeeper leaned forward with a sagely nod. "Best leave the carriage and go by horseback."
Even Milly seemed slightly surprised by this news, and she and Meryl exchanged a quick glance, brows raised.
And then the old innkeeper, who was decidedly more pleasant than at first glance, continued on. "Aye, ye might be able to trade the carriage in for a couple saddles, proper reins and a few saddlebags if you be lucky. Old Moe owns a shop just across from here. You might want to stop in early next morning," he consoled, once again nodding as if to confirm his own words.
Meryl decided this was the time for her to step back in, as she figured Vash had wasted enough time trying to gain the innkeepers trust. She could have very well been ready to jump in between clean sheets and settle her head upon a soft pillow by now. But of course, Vash had to fool around.
Trying her best not to shove her way back into the conversation with too much force, Meryl planted herself firmly next to Vash. "Well, thank you very much for you're helpful information, sir, but we'd really like two rooms about now. Do you have any available?" she prompted curtly.
The old innkeeper couldn't suppress his grin, and sent another sly glance at Vash. "Can't wait to hop in the sack, eh?"
Meryl figured he was lucky Milly was there to restrain her; otherwise he wouldn't have that all-knowing smirk adorning that grisly old face of his!
Vash was laughing, a high pitch noise that only seemed to aggravate Meryl further.
Stopping his teasing, the innkeeper finally decided the three were deemed worthy of one of his inn's rooms. "Not to worry, we happen to have two available rooms. Now, did ye say three beds, or four beds?" he inquired.
"Three," Vash cut in before Meryl could say anything.
Nodding, the innkeeper produced two keys. "Good, good. That'll be twelve shillings, then."
Again, before anything else could be said, Vash had twelve shillings on the counter. The innkeeper gathered up the coins and handed over the two keys.
"One night only. You're all to be vacated by seven sharp," he instructed, then almost as an after thought, added, "And ye can get rid o' that carriage out back by the stables. Feel free to tether your horses up for the night."
Vash nodded his thanks with a smile before turning, snatching up Meryl's hand before she could protest, and leading the way from the inn. Once they were outside, however, unheard by curious ears, Meryl whirled on Vash, a scowl seemingly permanently etched on her pale face.
"What was that?!" she shrieked as they neared Wolfwood, who stood idly by the horses.
Milly trailed behind, watching the two with a bemused smile. They made their way around to the back of the carriage to unload their few possessions, bickering the whole way. Their words faded somewhat, but Meryl's voice could still be heard, shrill, no doubt telling off Vash for his performance back in the inn.
She turned to Wolfwood with a smile. He was smoking a cigarette, one hand holding tight to the girdle on one of the horses.
"What's that about?" he asked, although he wondered if he really wanted to know.
Smiling, Milly replied. "Oh, nothing really. Vash just told the innkeeper that Sempai was his wife," she declared lightly.
The priest couldn't help but grin. "Did he really?"
"Oh yes, and Sempai doesn't seem too happy about it, either. Although I don't know why. I think they'd be a perfect couple, don't you think so Mr. Wolfwood?" She fixed him with an expectant look, a smile tugging at her lips.
He listened briefly as a pained howl penetrated the still air. That would have been Vash…
"Maybe…" he answered evasively.
He had to wonder, though.
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Night had come swift. No longer than a half hour after the four companions had checked into the small inn did the darkness truly fall. It had stopped raining for the day, and the air was left thick with water, fog rolling around the streets of the small town like some haunting ghosts. Lingering raindrops fell from the roof of the building, trailing down windows and dripping down gutters. The only place outside that was dry was the porch, where the inn's roof protruded slightly, providing a bit of shelter where a lone bench sat.
Meryl stood outside, her long cloak covering her state of undress. She only wore her long nightshirt underneath, and hadn't bothered to pull on her boots. She wanted to feel the worn grain of the wood on the soles of her feet.
She'd left Milly inside, snoring happily within the depths of slumber. They'd sorted out the rooms, and Milly and herself had taken the single bed. Vash and Wolfwood had vehemently refused to share, saying it just wasn't something men could do. She'd had a laugh out of that.
So they'd settled down in the small rooms, Vash and Wolfwood, heading downstairs to mingle with the locals. But knowing Wolfwood that meant drinking. Of course, she didn't drink, and was much too tired anyway. Instead, Milly and herself lay side by side for a while, simply talking. Chatting about nothing in particular. They hadn't done that for a while, and Meryl had felt her mood lighten, an invisible weight lifting from her shoulders.
But after her friend had fallen asleep and commenced with her snoring, Meryl had continued to lay awake. She'd stared at the dark ceiling; unable to fall into that slumber she wanted so much. So she'd slipped from the protective bed sheets and instead donned her cloak. Before she left the room, she'd treaded into the washroom, chancing a glance at the puncture wounds in her neck. It was getting harder to look at them every day now. They frightened her. And when she had examined them in the dim light, she'd paled several shades to a pasty white.
The holes had obviously started their work. Thin, spindly veins of bluish-purple were creeping up her neck away from the bite, the skin around them a shade lighter than her own. The holes themselves were red, the colour of her blood, not healing. Knives had done his work well. At this rate, Meryl had realized her time was running out fast. She could feel it, too. Her body was weakening, preparing itself for a complete shut-down of all systems. Readying her for death and the afterlife of horrors she would face.
No more than a day or two now…
Disturbed, the petite woman had fled the room on silent feet, making her way swiftly down the hallway and down the creaky staircase. Her feet had only hit two loose boards, not enough to wake anyone. At least she hoped. At this time, her own company was of a great comfort, when she could retreat into her mind and think things over. She could wonder how everything was going to turn out.
Meryl had left the inn without much though, intent on getting fresh air into her lungs. The door to the Prancing Pony had been left unlocked, but a large cross hung above the entranceway, intending to protect it's occupants from the monsters lurking in the darkness.
Meryl knew crosses didn't work as they myths told them to. Her only solace as she had stepped out into the night air was her derringers and stakes, carefully hidden under the folds of her cloak.
Now, there she was, standing on the open porch, unused bench behind her, darkness of night before her. The shadows were fleeting, warned off by a lone lantern off to the side of the inn, hanging from the roof. It was still in the air, much like the fog. Everything was motionless.
She wondered what lay before them, herself, Milly, Vash and Wolfwood. What would happen to them when they finally reached Purebrood? Had Nicholas thought of a plan? Did Vash have a vague idea where the serum she so craved actually was? She realized she hadn't given it much thought. Under different circumstances, Milly, herself and Nicholas would have taken the time to develop a plan or some idea as to how they would get in and out of the castle safely. They'd rushed into this without much of a thought, without an idea as to what they were supposed to do once they got there.
Vash better know how to get into that castle without being seen… she told herself, …or I'm going to whop him into next Tuesday…
She would have to find the time to question him about the castle. Secret entrances. A layout. Where the serum was. Where Knives's room lay. They'd have to avoid some places and stick to the shadows. None of the four of them were ready to fight off the legion of bloodsuckers that lived there, least of all Vash and herself. They were both weak and frail, on the thin edge where life and death met.
Sighing, Meryl trailed her eyes down the street.
Not a soul in sight. That was a relief. She almost found herself wishing they could stay a bit longer. She liked the company of large crowds, and the people who lived in this small town seemed to like the company of each other, too.
Safety in numbers, she reminded herself. And they certainly did a good job of it. Meryl was quite sure the whole town had showed up to drink themselves senseless, and they'd stayed roaring drunk well into the night until they'd all started passing out. Then, she figured, they'd all holed up in this one inn, filling all the rooms, and emerged only when daybreak came. Plus strenuous hangovers.
The petite woman smiled at that, caught up in her thoughts. Maybe too caught up in her thoughts.
So distracted she was that she didn't realize someone had crept up behind her until a hand fell onto her shoulder.
Jolted from her reverie, her hand immediately digging under the folds of her cloak and she whirled around to face her unexpected visitor.
A large, relieved breath escaped her lungs when she realized who it was, and her grip fell from a stake she had managed to wrap her fingers around.
"Vash??" she questioned, glaring at him.
The culprit in question had backed off slightly, a look of alarm on his face, hands held up protectively before him. He nodded meekly in response.
Shoulders sagging, she turned from the tall blonde and stared resolutely back at the street. "What are you doing out here?" she all but demanded, heart still racing in her chest. Damn…what a scare. I'm loosing my edge…
After a moment, Vash stepped up beside her, standing to her right. "I could ask you the same thing."
She snorted, ignoring his comment. "Don't sneak up on me like that."
"I thought you heard me," he defended himself.
"I didn't," she stated simply, and they fell into silence.
Staring ahead, Meryl crossed her arms, pulling the safety of her cloak tighter around her body. Truth be told, her feet were getting cold. And she could feel fatigue creeping up on her, bidding her to return to bed and sleep. She'd love to sleep, but knew she probably couldn't. There was too much on her mind, too much going on around her.
Shifting the weight on her feet slightly, she broke the silence. "I don't think I can do this much longer," she said with a sigh, before the words had fully formed in her mind. They came unbidden to her lips, and she cursed herself slightly for saying such a stupid thing. She wished she could take it back.
"Do what?"
Too late, of course. Vash was looking at her now, green eyes focused on her face. She remained staring forward, defeated. Why not spill her deepest concerns to him, anyway? Did it matter that he was a half-blooded vampire?
No…
"Keep going…keep walking. Keep looking. It's getting too tiring," she answered, voice softer than it had been before.
There was silence, and then…"You shouldn't say that."
She gave a short sigh. "I know," she replied forlornly.
"Milly's relying on you," he went on.
"We've been friends for so long…" Meryl recalled wistfully, somewhat to herself.
"And we'll find it," Vash reassured her.
The petite woman turned to him, eyes narrowed. "How can you be so optimistic?"
Vash smiled disarmingly, a glint in his eyes. "Well…it starts with getting enough sleep so I'm no so grumpy all the time," he started, and Meryl's eyebrows shot up as she realized he was referring to her.
"I am not!"
Ignoring her, he continued. "And I prefer smiling a lot, so I don't get those ugly wrinkles around my mouth…Oh, and it helps to relax, because otherwise, you're as stiff as a board and have a state of mind just as brittle." He smiled again as if to prove his innocence.
Meryl glared hotly up at him, hands planted firmly on her hips. "I should hit you for that," she warned with a scowl.
Vash managed to look shocked and offended. "Why? You asked me and I told you!" He complained loudly, turning his face away.
Realizing he meant well, Meryl couldn't help but let a smile tug on her lips at his antics. Good lord, the man was odd!
Vash grinned as he caught sight of her smile. "There you go!" he exclaimed, and reached for her hand, patting it as though she was some sort of dog. "Now all you need to do is relax a bit and go back upstairs to your room."
And with that, he tugged firmly on her hand and led her back into the relative safety of the inn. Meryl allowed herself to be pulled back up the stairs, Vash talking the whole time. And she did so with a smile on her face.
--
Due to lack of creativeness on my part, I stole the inn's name from J. R. R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. It's not mine, so don't sue!
--Cayenne Pepper Powder