THE QUESTERS, PART VIII

Alexander and I took a one-masted sailing craft - the same one we took to see old-lady Cross - out to Berring Island.

Berring itself is a small fishing and farming village, consisting of perhaps four or five dozen huts. It's situated on the only sizable flat spot of an otherwise rocky and jagged isle. A small stone fortification is located on the inland side of the village and a shrine to the goddesses dominates the small village square. A scatter of farm holdings are visible on higher elevations outside the village, each at the center of a few bare acres of worked land. All in all, the island didn't have a wealthy appearance, but the scattered inhabitants I saw here and there seemed hale enough.

Once Alexander and I got there, we tied off, jumped onto the dock, and walked ashore

A pair of samurai, grim in their leather and chain, were walking slowly towards us, their boots crunching on the gravel scattered around the foot of the dock. I was in my usual Spider-Legion leggings, but I was also wearing a Temple Guardsman's leather hauberk. Alexander was in his full Guardsman field uniform. My Spider-armor was in a pack that was slung over my shoulder.

The First Spider whispered faint warnings to me. That was about right for someone facing Blood samurai who were performing their duty. As long as we were careful, we shouldn't be in trouble.

Putting down the pack, I gave the two samurai a polite cross-armed bow. They returned it. That was a good sign.

"My name is Jonah," I said. "I'm a Spider in the service of the Sword Priestess Militant of the Jerse coast. My companion is Alexander, a guardsman of the Sea-Eagle temple."

The samurai said nothing. Their eyes were still cold, but they were also curious.

"We've been sent by the high-priestess of the Sea-Eagle Temple," I continued. "We're here to talk about that vampire you killed a while back."

The two samurai gave each other a startled look.

We ended up in the presence of Lord Berring himself. He was holding court in the main hall of his fortification. The hall was a simple place, without much in the way of show or display. However, behind where Lord Berring was seated, there were dozens of skulls displayed in niches that had been carved into the wall.

They were the previous lords of the holding. In fact, one of them had almost certainly been killed by the current lord.

Lord Berring was a gray and gruff-looking Blood. It struck me that he was at the age when a lord should consider putting his affairs in order. His last challenge-fight would be coming soon, and then his skull would join the others in the wall behind him. For a moment, I wondered what it must be like to see those skulls every day and know what was coming. Being a Lord of the Blood has its advantages, but it is also a position born in violence and doomed to end the same way.

As we entered, Lord Berring paused in what he was doing - it sounded like he was settling a dispute about an inheritance - and looked at us curiously. One of our escorting samurai moved to his side and whispered something into his ear.

With a few words, Lord Berring gave his judgment. The two brothers who'd brought their competing claims to him accepted his words without question or anger. They left the hall together, talking amiably, as soon as Lord Berring dismissed them. If that was typical, then Berring maintained fair control of his small holding, and his people respected him for more than just his ability to deal out violence. That probably also helped explain how he had lived so long.

Then the lord turned his attention to us. Lord Berring had the thoughtful look of a man trying to pin down a memory.

"You're Alexander, right?" he said to my companion. Apparently they'd met before. Since Alexander seemed to do a lot of odd missions for his temple, that wasn't too surprising.

Alexander bowed. "Yes, my Lord."

Then Lord Berring looked at me. "I don't know you. You're also in the service of the Death Lady?"

'Death Lady' is an old-fashioned way of describing the Lady of Blades. I'd never heard that title used outside of old tales, but Lord Berring's holding was obviously an isolated and provincial place. Old-fashioned ways were probably normal.

I also bowed. "Yes, my Lord," I said. "My name is Jonah. I am of Clan Parker."

"You're a long way from the Towers of Nyack," Lord Berring observed.

"Yes, my Lord," I agreed, offering no further explanation.

"And the priestess of the Sea-Eagle temple sent you to ask about that vampire?" Lord Berring added dubiously. He was still examining us closely. He had an unnervingly piercing gaze.

"Yes, my Lord," I replied.

Lord Berring sighed and settled deeper into his heavy, high-backed, wooden chair.

"There's not much to the tale," he told us. "A vampire turned up, pretty much out of nowhere. It killed two of my vassals in one night - a pair of Wilder girls. Then the next day my samurai did their job. They tracked the vampire back to where it was sheltering and killed it."

I was reminded of the Queen of Vampire's words about how her people were a dying breed. The vampire of Berring Island had not lasted very long at all.

"Was the vampire a transformed local?" I asked.

Lord Berring shook his head. "He looked like a young man - still almost a lad - but he was unknown to us. He was dressed like a Folk farm-boy and I assume he was transformed somewhere else, and then somehow washed ashore here. We put out word to the villages on the coast, but nothing came of it. Of course, there was no body to claim after we burned it and I suppose a family might not be interested in the kind of attention you attract when one of yours becomes a monster."

Then Lord Berring nodded to the big and ugly Senior Samurai who was standing by his side. "Chancy here tracked down the vampire."

Alexander and I looked expectantly at Chancy.

"There's not much more to tell," Chancy said with a shrug. "I had the night-watch when a woman came in and reported that her two youngest were dead. I grabbed two other samurai and we investigated. The vamp came into their room through an open window. It killed them both without a sound, while they were still in bed. The two girls were drained dry."

Chancy paused before continuing. "By then the sun was just over the horizon, so we had the advantage. We tracked the vampire to some sea caves on the south shore. Its stench was so bad that it was easy to walk the trail right back to its lair. It was asleep - gorged with blood and unmoving. Actually, there was no trouble taking its head. Then we hauled the body into the sunlight and it just sort of melted away. There were some bones and dry flesh left, but we burned what was left. After that, we searched the rest of the caves but found nothing else. Over the next few weeks, we tripled the watch and had night-patrols all over the island. But there were no more attacks."

"Good work," I told Chancy. He nodded his head in polite recognition of my words.

"Did the vampire have any personal effects?" Alexander asked.

Chancy shook his head. "Simple clothes. No shoes. Nothing in his pockets. There were burn-like marks on its ankles and wrists - I think it was chained-up at some point and for some reason, the shackles did injury to it."

"Silver-lined shackles," I informed Chancy. "Created to keep vampires from breaking free of confinement."

There was a mild stir among the samurai in Lord Berring's small court. What I'd told them made sense and it answered a minor mystery.

Lord Berring leaned closer. "Then how did it get free?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Good question, my Lord. It's possible that your vampire manifested the ability to turn to mist while still quite young and used that to escape. Of maybe it simply got loose because of a prisoner-handling accident. Whoever had him captive might have been moving him from place to place, removed his shackles, and then he managed to escape."

"Perhaps it was a prisoner aboard a ship and managed to get away?" Chancy suggested.

It was my turn to nod. "That sounds very likely, Senior Samurai."

"That the vampire came from a passing ship is likely," Lord Berring told us. "And there is something strange that has been seen in our waters over the years. A ship with odd lines and no masts. Some of my vassals said they spotted it at dusk on the day before the attack that killed those girls."

"My Lord..." Chancy began. Then he hesitated.

Lord Berring smiled at Alexander and I. "Chancy is a bit of skeptic about the tales of a mastless ship. He thinks it's mostly an alcohol-drenched sailor's story. And I won't say he's wrong about that, but in this case, the coincidence seems rather strong."

"Yes, my Lord," Chancy agreed reluctantly.

"My Lord," I said, "may we have your permission to ask questions around your holding?"

Lord Berring gave me a long look. "You've never mentioned why Priestess Kathryn is interested in this matter."

I didn't hesitate to respond. "She's worried that there might be a connection between the Hand and the vampires that appear every now and then on these shores."

That caused another stir. Lord Berring's heavy eyebrows rose in surprise. I'd obviously caught his interest.

Then Lord Berring nodded once. His eyes met mine and they were grim and hard. "You have my leave, but Chancy will escort you. And you will hide nothing from him."

"Yes, my Lord," I replied.

After that, we spent a miserable hour visiting the father and mother of the two dead girls. They tried their best to be helpful, but it quickly became obvious that all we were doing was forcing them to experience the deaths of their daughters once again. We left as soon as it became obvious that there was nothing to be gained.

Chancy walked us to the sea cave where the vampire had been found and killed. We worked our way into the vampire's lair - which was now filled with religious symbols. The cross of the Folk's Old Faith was well represented. The cross is said to be particularly effective against vampires.

"This must have been a bitch to search," Alexander said after we left the cave. The cave was part of a tangle of channels and warrens on the island's rocky south-east shore. High seas, or even just tides, would make the place dangerous in short order.

Chancy nodded in rueful agreement. "We did the best we could. The problem is that there's so much water flowing in and out of here that it eventually washes away any scent. After killing the vampire we patrolled the area for a few weeks, just in case we missed something. But nothing came of it."

"Are there any lore or legends about vampires on this island?" Alexander asked.

Chancy shook his head decisively. "None."

"Have you ever had any trouble with the Hand?" Alexander asked.

"No. Some have wondered if the mastless ship might have something to do with them, but that's just one of a dozen or more tall tales."

"What about the mastless ship?" I asked.

Chancy sighed. "It's real, but the stories about it tend to get crazy after enough whiskey or rum. Sailors have been talking about the mastless ship for as long as I've been alive. Some people say they've seen it from shore, others say they've seen it at sea. Most who've claimed to have seen it, spotted it around sunrise. A few at sunset. A day before our vampire showed up, a couple of boys who were out crab-fishing said they spotted the ship well north of the island."

Alexander stirred. "Helluva coincidence - the ship shows up and then a vampire appears."

Chancy nodded his head grimly.

"Could the vessel be crewed by vampires?" I asked slowly. I found the thought unnerving.

Both Alexander and Chancy shook their heads.

"Just because it's seen only near night doesn't mean that the sun won't rise the next day," Alexander pointed out. "After that - 'poof' - no more vampires."

"And why would it sail past our island for years - decades - without attacking us?" Chancy added. "From the tales I've heard, vampires are always hungry."

"You're right," I said, feeling a bit foolish. "It's just... there are tales from the Folk Ascendancy. The Folk had ships made of steel, and there was a lot of space under-deck. The ship was steered from a sheltered location. Some ships could even sail both above and below the water."

Alexander seemed skeptical, but Chancy looked interested.

"Sail below the water?" he repeated.

"So I've read," I told him.

"There's somebody you should talk to," Chancy told me.

Gerard was an older Blood who'd obviously spent most of his life at sea. We waited by the docks until his fishing boat came in and then we approached him.

"Tell them about the sinking ship," Chancy said shortly.

Gerard gave Chancy the flat look of a man more used to giving orders than obeying them. Chancy returned his gaze. After a tense few seconds, Gerard turned to Alexander and me.

"I've seen that ship maybe half-dozen times over the years - usually at a distance. But the first time I saw it was a good eighty years ago. And I got a good, close, look. I'd just started with Captain Kinross and was the youngest aboard his boat. That morning we headed out just after first light. Kinross liked to fish the banks on the far side of the island, and we always left early so as not to lose too much daylight. As we sailed around Garrison Point, we saw the ship. I think we accidentally snuck up on it."

"We got within a cable of it. The ship was at least fifty yards long and made of riveted metal. There were no masts and almost no superstructure, just a tall protrusion about three men in height and twice that in length. The protrusion was maybe a quarter of the way back from what I took to be the prow. At first, we thought it was some kind of capsized vessel, but when we got closer it became obvious that wasn't right."

"Pardon me, Captain, but how did you judge the ship's size?" Alexander asked. He was obviously doing his best to be respectful.

Gerard wasn't offended by Alexander's question - in fact, he seemed to appreciate it. "There were birds flocking around the ship. Trust me, young fellow, I know the width of a seagull's wingspan"

"Yes, sir," Alexander replied crisply, as if responding to an order.

Then Gerard continued his story.

"The ship was moving against the current at about five knots and left a visible wake. And as we watched, it began sinking, but it was still moving as it sank. I don't think that it was in trouble. I think it was a ship built to sail underwater."

"We tried pursuing it - mostly just out of curiosity - but it slipped all the way underwater. There was some kind of pipe or something that came up from that protrusion near the front of the ship. We could see it poking out of the water, but that was all we could make out. We watched it sail off to the east, out into the open ocean."

"And that's it," Gerard finished. "No sea-monsters, or captured noble ladies pleading for help, or naked sirens, or Folk mages summoning dark powers, or any of the claptrap everyone blathers out when they've had too much to drink. I'm not sure, but if I had to make a guess, I'd say the ship was Atlantean. They have some strange craft that can venture below the sea."

Then Gerard ground to a halt and looked at us expectantly. I had the distinct impression that if any of us were to laugh at him, we'd catch a face-full of claws.

"We're a fair ways from Atlantean waters," Alexander pointed out.

Gerard nodded. "Yes, but they do have ships - damned strange ships - that bring cargo in and out of Nyack every decade or so. I saw one on a voyage to the city. We might have spotted an outward-bound vessel. The only problem is that what we saw didn't have the bright colors of an Atlantean ship. And that riveted hull looked kind of crude for an Atlantean design."

Gerard ground to a halt. He obviously had no more to say.

"Thank you, Captain," Chancy said calmly. "His lordship appreciates your help."

Gerard nodded and turned back to his fishing boat. He was yelling orders to his crew before he got a half-dozen steps away.

I considered Gerard's back.

"That's not a man given to flights of fancy," I told the others.

Alexander grunted in agreement.

Chancy obviously also agreed. "That's the story about the mastless ship that's always bothered me - detailed and not at all crazy. Captain Kinross told the same story until the day he died. So did most of his crew. I'm sure they're the ones who got closest to the ship. And as near as I can tell, that was the first sighting. Ever since then, the ship is only seen at a distance."

"Perhaps whoever's crewing that thing learned a lesson?" I suggested. "And since then they don't let anyone sneak up on them?"

"That's possible," Chancy admitted.

"We still don't have anything that actually connects the vampire and the ship," Alexander pointed out.

"True," I responded.

Then I looked at Chancy. "You saw the body of that vampire just before you dragged it into daylight. Was there anything on it besides the shackle marks? Anything at all?"

Chancey frowned as he considered my question. "There was a smear of yellow on its right bicep," Chancy replied. "I assumed its regenerative talents were cleaning up a tattoo it got it before it became a vampire. It looked something like a distorted yellow 'Y'."

"I've seen something like that," I said. "It's the sign of the Yancey's. They're one of the bigger street-gangs in Nyack."

Chancy raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"He knows things," Alexander said to Chancy, with a nod of his head in my direction.

"So now we have a possible connection to Nyack," I noted.

"If something like the mastless ship ever actually docked at Nyack, it would be noticed," Chancy pointed out.

"The ship could station-keep out at sea and have cargo brought to it by boat," I said. "That's how smugglers usually load and unload their cargos. Do it at night, and at some distance to the usual approaches to the docks, and you'd be able to do pretty much as you wish. And the small-boat sailors of Nyack know better than to disturb such a vessel. It's a great way to get killed."

"Aren't there patrol vessels around Nyack?" Chancy asked curiously.

Alexander shook his head. "Not as many as there should be. And if they're active, all a smuggler has to do is lay further out to sea."

"How does this all fit together?" Chancy asked. He was obviously baffled.

"We have reason to believe that a powerful vampire is procuring victims in Nyack, but that's all we know," I told Chancy. "At least until now."

Alexander spoke up again. "Here's what might be happening: people are kidnapped in Nyack, transported to that ship, and then shipped off as cattle to somewhere else. Your island is a navigational landmark on the way - hell, I've done the same when I take a boat up or down this part of the coast. Oh, and I take back what I said earlier about how unlikely it is that the mastless ship has vampires aboard. Think about it - the mastless ship sails on the surface at night and undersea during the day. That would suit vampires pretty well."

I made a mental note to tell Demetrios that he should consider giving Alexander more responsibilities. He was wasted as a common guardsman.

Chancy still had doubts. "A vampire-controlled ship has been passing by this island for almost a century? And in all that time they've never raided us?"

I shook my head, "If people surreptitiously disappear in Nyack, that's just more of the same. On the other claw, raiding your island would attract attention. And this island is mostly populated by Blood. There would be battles and there would be survivors. The survivors would talk. Even just quietly grabbing some local people might cause too many questions."

"So the cost of attacking isn't worth the price," Alexander added. "The Nyack operation is too important to risk exposure."

"But what about the vampire we killed?" Chancy pointed out.

I took that question. "Maybe they turned a prisoner into a vampire in order to make him a new crewman, but he somehow resisted and jumped ship. Or a vampire drank too much from a prisoner and then lost control of him. Or your vampire just went accidentally overboard and ended up here. All of those are possible."

For a long time, Chancy was silent as he stared out at the sea. He looked like he had never seen it before.

"I have to talk to Lord Berring," he said quietly.

"And we need to get back to our Priestess," I told Chancy.

Then I squinted at the sun. The lowest part of it was not far above the horizon.

"Do you feel comfortable sailing back at night?" I asked Alexander.

He gave me a long look. "Not as much as I did this morning, but yes."

Then I looked at Chancy. "We will, of course, say our proper farewells to your Lord."

We met Lord Berring alone in his hall and told him our story. By the time we were done, he was obviously disturbed.

"This is all conjecture, my Lord," I warned him. "But at least for now, it all seems to fit."

Lord Berring gave me a pained look. "In my experience, the worst possibility is the one most likely to be true. And you should always plan on that basis."

That seemed wise. I silently bowed in response.

Then Lord Berring looked at Chancy. "Review the watch-posts. Wooden stakes should be within easy grabbing distance in every building, home, and boat. Put extra lanterns in and around the village at night. And put word out that anyone at sea who sees the mastless ship is to steer clear of it. If anyone gets restless about any of that, tell them that I'm worried about more vampires washing ashore."

"Yes, my Lord," Chancy said immediately. Then he left the hall.

Lord Berring watched Chancy leave. Then, with a sigh, he rose to his feet. The lord moved slowly and carefully as he stood, and both Alexander and I were careful to keep our faces expressionless at that sight. It was the kind of weakness that a lord would normally not dare show.

Then Lord Berring walked to the row of skull-filled niches at the back of his hall. Standing silently, he considered them. The fading sunlight seemed to make him look particularly gray.

With a grunt, he rapped his knuckles in an empty niche at the end of the row of skulls.

"This one will be mine," Lord Berring told us.

Alexander and I just looked at each other. We couldn't think of a thing to say.

"I'd always hoped Chancy would put me in there," Lord Berring added conversationally. "He's smart, a good leader, and damned dangerous in a fight. However, I don't think he's capable of the fundamental disloyalty that's required. I've always hoped I was wrong about that last part. My vassals need a good lord. And perhaps they now need it even more than I thought."

He turned and looked at us. "You two are the bearers of amazingly bad news. I don't think I'll be able to sleep soundly again. I'll get into bed and then lie back and wonder what the night will bring. Will my holding explode into a midnight battle? How many of my people will be dead when the sun finally rises?"

Then he fell silent for a long while.

Eventually, he softly added one more thing. He really wasn't speaking to us.

"Is it finally time?"

I suddenly knew what was coming. Alexander and I had wandered into something dark and grim. Lord Berring was old and he had been considering his end for some time. Now he'd found his reason.

"My Lord," I said quickly - and perhaps desperately. "It's been at least eighty years since the mastless ship was first seen. Your holding has been left alone for all that time..."

Lord Berring smiled bitterly at me. "That's some vampire's decision, young Spider. And policies can change. Someone has to be ready for when that day that comes. Someone who can still see clearly, doesn't get up to pee four times a night, and never has to make embarrassing excuses to his wives."

There was an armor-rack in the corner of the hall, with an assemblage of plain and well-used chainmail arrayed on it. Lord Berring shrugged of his jerkin and walked over to the rack. His chest was covered with wiry gray hair and sinewy muscle, but you could tell that there had once been much more muscle.

Lord Berring slipped on his padded under-armor. Then he gave Alexander a serious look.

"Guardsman, assist me with my armor," he ordered crisply.

Alexander instantly hurried over, took the chain jacket from the rack, and held it open.

Lord Berring slipped into his armor, yanking it into place with practiced ease. Alexander expertly helped him with the buckles and straps. When they were done, Alexander took a helm from the rack and carefully slipped it onto Lord Berring's head. Then, after a deep bow, Alexander stepped away.

"Sir... My Lord..." Alexander suddenly said in a tone that was full of quiet worry. He knew what was happening.

Lord Berring smiled and put a reassuring hand on Alexander's shoulder. Alexander immediately fell silent. After that, Lord Berring glanced at me.

"Find Chancy," Lord Berring told me. "Tell my Senior Samura that when he's done with my orders, he's to see me in my hall. Tell him that if he doesn't kill me, I'll kill him."

"Yes, my Lord," I said quietly. Alexander just looked away.

After that, Alexander and I made to leave the hall of Lord Berring. Behind me, the old Blood sat heavily back in his chair. Then I heard him open his claws for the last time.

After that, it was silent. After all, there was nothing for Lord Berring to do but wait for his best and most loyal Samurai to arrive.

The sun was down. The last of dusk outlined a dark-rose western sky. At the dock, Alexander silently prepared our boat.

I pulled my Spider amulet from my pocket and then clutched it tight in my hand.

Off in the distance, I could see Chancy, illuminated by a scattering of lantern light, walking toward Lord Berring's fortification. He walked as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. At the front gate, he paused. The two gate guards stared straight ahead and didn't acknowledge him. A small pack of other Samurai - about a half-dozen - were drawn back, completely silent. The men and women of the village watched in a tense and huddled mass. Some were in tears.

A well-dressed and matronly woman pushed her way through the crowd. Then - all dignity suddenly taken from her - she began screaming as she realized what was happening. She frantically began fighting her way towards the fortification, but two other women held her back. The older woman's claws came out and in short order she'd cut her fellow wives several times, but couldn't shake herself loose. Other women began rushing towards the scene, trying to help the Lady of Berring Island to regain her composure.

Chancy shook his head, took a deep breath, and entered his master's gate. The last I saw of him, his claws were out. Chancy's lord had given him one last order. And it had to be obeyed.

I was shaking. My eyes were closed and I was breathing hard.

I was kneeling in the rain. Uncle Ben looming over me, deadly and grim with a huge ax in his hands. My great-grandfather was dying, held in my one good arm. Looking up at me, his mouth filled with blood, my great-grandfather tried to say something to me. I think it was my name. And his eyes held a sanity that had been missing for so long...

Ben had delivered the killing blow, but I'd been part of the fight. I'd helped kill Peter Eugene Parker, the master of House Parker. A man I'd once loved and had sworn to both serve and defend.

Alexander put his hands on my shoulders as I gripped my amulet so hard that blood began to flow. And for the thousand-and-first time, I prayed for the soul of my great-grandfather.