Chapter Twenty-Three

Turnabout

As anyone can tell you, regardless of the affairs of a man's heart; despite explosions of rage and seas of tearful regret; whether you want it to, or not, and no matter what your problems are; life will continue on as if nothing is wrong. The world still turns; the universe does not collapse within itself, and the fact remains: everything is as it was. This is what Mika ver Leth realized when he returned to the Hall of Princes after finally facing his inner turmoil. The hall was bustling with Generals in talks with the three Princes already seated, Arrow, Paris and the young Darren Shan. There were shouting matches going on between some of the younger, hotter-headed Generals, and the Princes calmly tried to speak over them. Arrow always chuckled whenever things turned into a fist fight, perhaps because he was bored of his seat and longed for his younger, feistier years. As hard as the Generals tried to retain decorum, it was obvious that most of them were used to operating solo, and opinions from their colleagues were the last thing any of them wanted to hear. Mika inhaled deeply as he opened the door, holding his breath for the barrage of questions he knew were coming from his Generals, about his absence. To his great surprise, as he walked through the bustling Generals, nobody asked him a single question about anything other than war and the Vampaneze.

"I suppose some things are more important than idle gossip." He mused as he took his seat next to Arrow.

The larger Prince slapped his shoulder enthusiastically. "It is good to have you back, my friend!" he laughed. "These men need someone with strategic war experience, and you know how I am-"

"Attack first, discuss flanking movements later, yes I know." Mika huffed, shaking his head in mock annoyance.

Arrow could not mask his grin. "You know me so well, Mika. I'll take the next few nights off and have you play for two instead." A pat on the back and a knowing smile mad Mika smile as well.

It didn't take long for everything to return to 'normal' at Vampire Mountain. With the four Princes once again seated at their respective thrones, work was getting done at an alarming pace. No more lines of questions, as the Generals of Vampire Mountain knew which Prince to go to for what. Arrow was in charge of training the new Generals in battle savagery, Paris gave instruction on ancient arts of war, and Mika would normally be the one dictating troop movements. The hustle of the hall began to die down, Generals left as quickly as they came, and life went on.

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"Four hundred and ninety-eight. Four hundred and ninety-nine. Five hundred!" Vanez hollered, giving Mika a slap on the leg and laughing to himself. "Five hundred one-handed push-ups on each arm; followed by five hundred one-handed pull-ups on each arm. My boy you are amazing!"

Mika grunted, slowly lowering himself from the high bars he had been using for his pull ups. "Tell me Vanez," he panted, wiping his brow with a spare cloth next to his shirt, which sat on the ground. "How is it you can count for me, without being able to see what I'm actually doing?"

Vanez smiled then "You lose one sense, the others grow stronger." He tapped his ears. "I can hear your heartbeat. There's a specific way it sounds when you are in the middle of a pull or push. That is how I keep count."

Mika couldn't help but smile. The old Vampire was still keeping the Hall of Games in great shape, even without his eyesight. The Prince set the cloth down and headed for the wrestling ring where two large Vampires where on the ground struggling to pin each other.

"Hit the showers, Mika. You've worked hard enough for one day." A gruff voice said from behind him.

Mika turned and met the smile of Arrow. Normally he would have agreed, but something had him itching to move, to work his muscles until he collapsed. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the ring. "I take it you've been here the entire time."

Arrow nodded, his broad head glistening in the torchlight. "You're g'na break yourself if you keep pushing so hard." The grappling match in the center of the ring was slowly ending, the bald Prince stepped forward to the right of Mika, arms crossed, stoically watching the match.

"I've barely broken a sweat."

"That's because you're too busy thinking about your strategies to really get into the work out." Arrow laughed at him, slapping his shoulder with his large hand.

As the two Vampires pat each other amicably on the back, Mika stepped into the ring, silent. Arrow watched him, a warning look flashing across his features. An arrogant smirk danced across his face.

"Watch yourself, Mika. You'll break more than just a sweat against me." Arrow looked down at his fellow prince, slowly stepping into the ring as well. The few Vampires in the Hall watched on excitedly whispering to each other. Rarely did the Princes challenge each other to games of sport, mostly to keep the rest of the Mountain from questioning who the strongest or best fit to govern is.

The two Princes stood face to face, barely two feet apart. The smirk still planted on Mika's face, and now Arrow smiled.

"You asked for it."

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Alone in his bedroom, Mika slowly stripped down to nothing. His gloves came off first, always, followed by his black, heavy fabric sweater, revealing his bulging, muscular chest. Simply being freed of those two articles of clothing made the Prince sigh in relief, stretching his arms above his head and outlining the ridged lines of his midsection. There was a large bruise on his hip from where Arrow had elbowed him to get out of a vice hold earlier that night during their match. Mika smiled. As strong as he was, Arrow was still stronger, his body more suited to physical strain and combat.

In a different life, Mika believed he would have been a scholar, or a court tactician, maybe a tradesman of some sort. However in this life, he was a commander; a war tactician and a damn fine one at that. He had spent decades honing his body and mind so that he could better serve his people, those of Vampire Mountain. The pain he felt from the beating Arrow had given him only served to remind him to work harder.

Removing his clothing was always the highlight of his night: right before bed, getting bare, becoming natural. As he slipped out of his black cotton pants and matching black socks, he stood nude in his chambers and continued to stretch. Scars, big and small, scattered his body, a naked map to the past, to long fought battles. There were three very predominant scars on his body that he'd received during his battle protecting Juliet from the Vampaneze that fateful night. Dazedly he traced the marks on his pecks. She had killed the strongest of the Vampaneze on her own that night. Some 'protector' he'd been.

To keep his body toned and battle-ready, Mika frequented the sporting halls. He sparred, practiced sword fighting, and showed up just about every other Vampire in his age group with his physical prowess. Rarely did he wonder if he was perhaps exercising too much, but it wasn't until Darren had asked him, honestly. 'Why do you keep doing it?' Hours he would spend in working his body to its limits, though he had already pushed passed them long ago.

He had easily gained an extra thirty plus pounds of muscle since his return to the mountain fifty years ago. The copious amounts of exercise had put a great deal of stress on his body, which, despite popular belief, is what gave him the marked frown lines upon his face. He had not needed the extra exercise, he maintained his muscle with ease by core training three times a week, but since he had returned… since Juliet's death, it had been every day, turning his body into an elite, muscular, fighting machine. Mika was still nowhere compared to Arrow in muscle mass, but the sheer size of his biceps startled even him.

'Why do you keep doing it?'

Sighing, the Prince glanced longingly at his bed before turning to the large coffin that sat in the corner of the chamber. He climbed in, wincing at the tenderness of his entire body. 'Why do I do it?'

"I know I'll never have to worry about using these things- you'll protect me!"

Her face flashed before his eyes.

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As he sat for dinner in the hall of Khledon Lurt, the black-cloaked Prince gave let out a heavy sigh. Three weeks. Three weeks and nobody had mentioned his strange behaviors, his disappearances, or his attitude. Mika was thankful for that. He knew that the reason it was not mentioned was because of his status, and not because of his popularity. As a Prince, Mika was known for being the most cutthroat, even if he was always fair what stood out was his ferocity. His general 'meanness'. None of the Vampires spoke about his strange behaviors because they feared what he might do to them, not because they respected him (though all of the Princes were well respected, it was for different reasons. Mika knew that he commanded less than Darren or Arrow when it came to bravery and loyalty, but he also knew that he was the smartest, and the most cunning of the Princes, and that was where his respect was gained).

So he sat in silence, quietly sipping his broth and completely ignoring the noise around him, until Larten Crepsley sat across from him, followed shortly by the aging Quartermaster, Seba Nile.

"Sire." The red-clad Vampires said simultaneously.

"Good evening Larten, Seba. How is your night?" he nodded to each Vampire, his words automatic, courtesies developed over decades. Though he was not the most respected Prince, Mika knew when to show respect where it was deserved. Larten Crepsley, though once his staunchest rival, was a clever Vampire, and had sired Darren, the youngest Vampire Prince ever, himself second, and Seba Nile was Larten's sire. 'Greatness ties to the blood of the forefathers', as Mika's sire would say.

Larten opened his mouth to respond but was cut off as Seba straightened his shirt and huffed irritably. Bemused by his sire's actions, the orange-haired Vampire sighed. "This night has been troubling, sire."

"Troubling indeed!" Seba growled. "We have been robbed, I believe that is a bit more than 'troubling' Larten!" the elder's clear agitation caused Mika to scowl.

"Robbed?"

"Yes, sire. Robbed! Swindled! Gypped! Every last one of my storage rooms has been pilfered!"

"Completely?" It was Mika's turn to get agitated. Who would steal from the quartermaster's storage? Why would anyone steal what could be easily given?

"No, not completely. We would not be speaking so plainly had the entire stores of food and drink been stolen." Larten interjected. "It is just a handful of items. One or two things from each room, nothing remotely noticeable, however-" he looked to Seba, who huffed once more.

"They're still here! The Vampaneze! Still living under our feet. I'd bet my nose on it."

Mika straightened, smoothing out his robes and pants. "What was taken?"

"Flint, water, dried meat, an assortment of clothes and shoes of varying sizes, and weaponry." Their server dropped off a bowl of broth for both Larten and Seba before disappearing to help the over Vampires in the hall.

Eyebrows raised, Mika asked, "Weaponry?" he took a bite of his bread.

The elder Vampire nodded. "Yes, axes and swords. Even a few old wooden shields I had yet to repurpose."

Mika looked to Larten. The other Vampire merely nodded, caressing the long scar that stretched across his face. Mika too began rubbing his chin in thought. "How much has gone missing?"

"I daresay enough to support a small army!"

Larten snorted. "Very small."

"How small?" he began eating once more, waiting for the quartermaster to respond.

Seba thought carefully. "Around twelve to fifteen people I'd say."

Mika stopped then. Fifteen people, roughly twice that number had been lurking in the bowels of their home for weeks before Darren had informed them of Kurda's treachery. They had lost some fine Vampires during that battle, including Larten's one-time mate, Arra Sails. The thought of there being another group waiting to attack

"When did you first notice the disappearances?" the Prince continued to inquire.

"Ah, I would say around-" he stopped abruptly and frowned at his assistant.

Mika caught Larten giving his sire a knowing look, as if to keep him quiet. "Larten, is there something I should know?"

The Vampire sighed. "I thought perhaps you would rather not be reminded, but it happened around the same time you were having your 'episodes'."

"'Episodes', hmm?" Mika nearly chuckled. "That is quite a while for you to keep quiet about all of this."

Seba nodded glumly. "Forgive me, but I thought that even in my old age I would be able to track down the thieves. They have proven a bit too much for me. If I did not keep such accurate records I would swear I am going batty."

Mika shook his head respectfully. "Nonsense, Seba, you're an invaluable asset to our community. The day I stop trusting your keen mind is the day I-"

"Stop wearing black? Become a nun? Show us what your fingers look like?" There was laughter from behind their table, and suddenly Darren and Harkat were seated with them. "Seriously, which one is it? I could come up with more!" the young Prince laughed jovially whilst his elders gave him dry looks.

"Good evening…. Sire." Harkat nodded to Mika, whom returned it. "I hope we are not… interrupting."

"Not at all, we were just discussing some items that have gone missing from Seba Nile's storage rooms."

Darren quickly swallowed his bread. "You still haven't found them?" Mika nearly asked him why he had known before any of the other Princes, before remembering that Harkat had been helping the quartermaster in the storage rooms.

Seba shook his head glumly. "Harkat and I have done some very in-depth searching for clues, hair, footprints, a foul stench, anything!"

"No luck, hmm?" Darren frowned.

"None at all. I only fear that if it truly is another group of Vampaneze that we will be overrun, now that council is over…"

The table sat in heavy silence while the all supped. Though Seba could simply be overreacting, Mika could not ignore the chance of Vampaneze prowling the tunnels within Vampire Mountain once more.

"You know," Darren said quietly. "If we send a small group into the tunnels, you know the way that Gavner and I followed after…. After Kurda…" he trailed off, looking at his elders for support.

"We could easily investigate the tunnels without much chance of getting caught, if there are unwanted guests hiding within the mountain." Larten finished for him, nodding approvingly at his assistant.

Mika nodded as well. "Darren, you shall go first thing in the morning, take whomever you'd like. You're more adept at navigating those tunnels."

Darren slurped down the last of his soup. "Why don't I go now? No use putting it off until tomorrow. I mean, what if it really is serious?" He stood up excitedly.

Larten sighed. "Darren, perhaps Mika is right, this can wait until tomorrow night-"

Seba snorted. "My store rooms are being infiltrated and you would like to wait to investigate the likely areas where the culprits are hiding?"

"Seba… is right. What if this… is another plot to… attack?" Harkat looked from Darren to Mika. The elder Prince sighed.

"Fine. I will accompany you tonight, then. To make sure we cover as much ground as possible." He stood, brushing off his robes. "I would like to quell these thoughts before they become rumors that drive this mountain insane."

"Alright! Anyone else want to come along?" Darren looked at the rest of the table.

"Unfortunately I have far more inventory to take to determine exactly what has been stolen from the stores so that we may replace it…" Seba sighed wistfully, unable to hide his distaste for the task.

"I will… stay behind and help… you Seba." Harkat smiled, his jagged little teeth shining eerily in the light of the hall.

"I suppose I shall go, then." Larten nodded.

"You are all excellent trackers, I'm sure you'll find the thieves easily!" Seba smiled. The three of them nodded.

"Let us meet up in an hour, at the entrance to the lower tunnels. Come prepared," Mika looked at Larten and Darren. "If we must fight, I would rather we stand a chance of winning."

The two Vampires nodded to Mika as he left the table and exited the Hall. His spine felt like ice, an eerie feeling that he'd only experienced twice before. The night he was blooded on the battlefield before an enemy ambush… and the day he left Juliet.